Without Rain
by Zellie
Summary: Reality and fantasy collide when Hermione, Ron, and Draco get caught in a book of dreams, an intricate scheme, and a tangled romance
1. Without Rain: (part 01)

A/N: First off, thank you so much to everyone who read my last story! You have no idea how happy that made me. This story is, in a word, different. It's more serious, and this first part is very oddly written and may be a tad confusing. Trust me, everything works out. It took me FOREVER. I have school and all, so it'll probably be slow posting each part and this is going to be long. I already have two more parts done. Thinking up this title took so long. D'you like it? Well, I'll be quiet now. Last note: This will be R/H or D/H, let me know what you want, thought the romance is not until way later. 

Oh yeah, please please review this if you want me to continue. And could someone _please_ put me on author alert? I'm very depressed right now *sigh* I have like, 2 people who have me on that. It was really hard to write and...oh, read the story I'm shutting up.

  
  


_ It was a cool night, but much darker then any one she'd ever seen. The sky was pitch black, and the ground was made not of dirt, but of water. At least it **looked** like water. It was hard to tell in the dark, and anyway, she didn't get wet when she touched it. Instead, the water turned red and her stomach leapt right up into her throat. She would tell her companion to leave her, insisting that she needed to be alone. And he would do so, though reluctant. And then she'd sigh softly and walk ahead._

_ And then there was the castle. It stood right in the center of the water, surrounded by ripples of red. It never occurred to her to wonder why the water wasn't the crystalline blue that most was. But the castle, it was curious. It made her want to enter it. Actually, it was more then a want, it was a longing. No, an obsession, that was it. She **had** to go inside. And so she'd walk over the water, never getting wet, her hands would grasp the stubble that made the castle's base, and she'd see it looming before her, her curiosity peaking and filling her._

_ The door would open silently, and she would walk up to it and look inside. But she couldn't see anything but blackness. She'd take one more step and here a thunderous pounding that seemed to grow forever louder and more menacing. It made her cringe, it made her cry, and yet she'd manage to take the last step, the one that led within the castle walls..._

  
  


That was when she'd wake up.Hermione lay in bed, gasping for her breath, trying desperately to fill her lungs. She was covered in a cold sweat and her bangs were matted to her forehead. 

"What happened?" she whispered, still panting.

But her mind was absolutely blank. She didn't remember anything. Not the castle, not the red water, and not the fact that she'd had this dream every night for the past month, and never once recalled it afterwards.

  
  


Potions was everyone's least favorite subject. Then again, Draco Malfoy wasn't everyone, as he so often reminded himself. 

Hermione could answer any question, so long as the answer was to be found in a text somewhere. She could absorb the words right off a page, with barely any effort at all. That was, possibly, why Snape hated her so much. Maybe it was because she was friends with Harry Potter. Then again, he really hated _everyone_ except Draco. Hermione sighed as she tried desperately to raise her hand higher without attracting too much attention.

"No one knows the answer? How very pathetic," said Snape, his tone slightly amused. 

Harry was looking at Snape with absolute loathing by now. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as if he was fighting the impulse to get up and land him with one swift punch. 

"I hate him," said Harry swiftly as they all rushed to exit, "I mean I _really_ hate him."

Hermione said lightly, "It's just favoritism, Harry. Learn to cope." She leaned up against the wall and began to skim one of her books.

"Look, you only lost five points today, and you usually loose at least ten," said Ron brightly. Catching the dejected expression on Harry's face he added, "Really Harry, he's just a slimy git who wants to make everyone as miserable as he is."

"Especially me," said Harry glumly. 

"Well, you deserve it," said a cold, drawling voice.

Ron moved as if to throw a punch. Draco backed up abruptly as Ron simply balled his hand into a fist and thrust it against his palm. He grinned and said, "Twitchy, aren't you?" 

Draco opened his mouth to retort.

"Crabbe and Goyle aren't with you now," Harry interjected lightly.

The same thought has just struck Draco, so he satisfied himself by glaring at them in a particularly malicious manner, and then spinning on his heels and stalking off.

Hermione continued to flip through her book, but her eyes trailed after Draco. "He'd better watch his step, that one," she said softly, closing the text. "He'd just better."

  
  


Hermione cocked her head to the side, examining the stack of books. 

"It's only a few extras, I'm sure I'll be able to carry them all at once. Just a matter of proper balance," she said, using her knee to shift the stack into her arms. If she hurried, she would make Transfiguration in time. If she _could _hurry...

"In a rush, Granger?" said Draco in an amused tone. He leaned against a bannister and coolly watched her struggle with the load of books, his own stacked in a toppling pile nearby.

Hermione tilted her head to the side and glared at him, "Just a bit," she replied coldly, still edging down the corridor. She felt her grip loosening on the bottom book.

Draco got up and moved to her front, "If I wanted, I could make you late," he sneered.

"Get out of the way," Hermione said impatiently.

He moved to the side, carelessly sticking out one foot, "Sure."

Hermione glared at him and huffily strode forward, not looking ahead. She felt her foot catch on his, and she fell over, her books scattering over the expanse of the corridor. Her chin smacked against the cold stone flooring. Draco smirked at her, "Never speak that way to a Malfoy."

"One day..." Hermione said threateningly as she rummaged under a table for her quills. She stood up hastily and walked over to him, standing so close that she could feel the heat coming from his face. He looked at her pointedly, the torchlight illuminating his pale face and grey eyes, casting the rest of him into shadow. "You know what your problem is, Malfoy?"

He looked taken aback, but quickly plastered on a sneer, "What's my _problem, _Granger?"

"I can't see my reflection in your eyes," she said flatly, "Why is that?"

Draco shrugged vaguely and lowered his head so that she couldn't see his face, but she knew he was smirking.

Hermione's voice was sharp. "And someday, someday I know I'll be able to. And then Malfoy, _then_ you'll be in trouble," she stooped down and placed a last piece of parchment atop her books, then hurried down the hall. 

  
  


"That twit! I swear I'm just going to do his head in one of these days," muttered Ron as Hermione explained why she was late in a hushed voice.

"He's not worth it," said Harry, "What's that, Hermione? Taking another course?" He gestured at a thin booklet wedged between her other texts.

"Of course not, I learned my lesson," she snapped, "And that's not mine. Must be Malfoy's." She pulled it out and leafed through it briefly. The cover showed an embossed sun and moon, welded together in a black sky. Each page had a single line for the date, and there was space for writing. She flipped it over and read the back of it. "Hmm....a dream book. Curious, I didn't know wizards had these. I mean, they're really a muggle thing, aren't they?"

"I haven't heard of them. Give it here," said Ron sharply. He turned the book over and handed it back to Hermione. "Bet it's full of dark magic," he said mischievously. "Why else would Malfoy have one?"

"Now, Ron," said Hermione, "It seems harmless. So long as we don't go writing in it or anything," she stopped speaking and shuddered, fresh memories flashing across her mind of their second year. "I think we'd best give it back to him."

"Give it back?" said Harry incredulously, "After what he did to you? Hermione, we can't just _give it back_!"

Hermione stared at him furiously, "Don't you two ever learn? I don't want anything going wrong this year! I don't want to risk my life again! And I _don't_ want any more trouble!"

"Hermione," said Ron quietly, "It's a book."

"But we don't know anything about it! I'm sure it's dangerous and has some secret about it that..." Hermione began defensively. 

"Fine, give it back to Malfoy," said Harry neutrally, "But just remember who he is. Hermione, that book _has _to be important or he wouldn't be carrying it around with him."

Hermione turned it over, running her finger over the cover. It was smooth and soft to the touch. "This book...." she whispered, "The sky has no stars."

  
  


It was a cool night, and the wind whistled through the trees sending its silenced whir throughout the quiet dorms. Hermione felt it wash over her as she pulled the covers up further around her neck. She flipped over and propped herself up with her hand. 

"Tsk, 'seems the more tired I get, the harder it is to sleep," she yawned stiffly and reached under her mattress, pulling out the flattened booklet. The moon on the cover had begun to emit a soft glow. Hermione pressed her finger to it and immediately felt a coldness shooting throughout her body and trilling down her spine. She pulled her hand away and shook it. Her fingers tingled and were shiny and raw, as if burned. Her head began to throb and a million thoughts and pictures flashed across her mind at once. They all seemed far away and surreal, as if she knew them but never experienced them. Suddenly, her mind cleared and she was left sitting in her bed, the covers pulled up past her chin. Glancing around, her stomach dropped as if weighted, "Where am I?"

Hermione shoved off the covers and immediately regretted it. The familiar warmth and common sounds of the school were strangely absent, and it was so dark that she couldn't see her palm in front of her face. She groped for her bed, but found that it wasn't where she'd left it. There was water and dirt on the ground, she could feel it edging between her toes. 

"This can't be good," she said quietly, taking a small step forward. She felt more aware then usual, and yet very tired.

"Who's there?"

Hermione felt her feet leave the ground for a moment. She wasn't alone...

"What's going on here? Listen, is this some sort of joke?" came the voice again.

"It's no joke. _Who's there_?" Hermione hissed the last part.

There was a substantive pause until she heard a small voice say, "Ron. Who're you?"

"Ron?" she gasped, "It's me, Hermione." 

"Hermione? Oh, this is rubbish. _Lumos,_" A soft light blossomed from the end of his wand, and Hermione saw Ron standing a few feet away from her, wearing his pajamas and looking very cross. "Any idea where we are? Because one moment I could swear I was in my bed, and then I was here, just like that." He snapped his fingers impatiently.

"I-I have no idea," she stammered, twisting her hair around a finger.

"I'm awfully tired, so can we just go back to the school?" said Ron hurriedly. 

Hermione sighed, "Ron, do you think I planned this? I have no clue where we are and why we're here. So stop being a prat and help me!"

"Help you do what?" replied Ron coolly.

"Help me...er..." What _was_ he supposed to help her with? "Help me find my wand. I think I might have dropped it when I..." she broke off, feeling rather stupid, and thinking back to when she'd woken up.

"Hermione, is there something you're not telling me?" said Ron severely. He looked remarkably annoyed compared to his usual self.

"Ahh..." said Hermione softly.

"I want to go back to sleep," Ron grimaced at her, "Now then, what is it?"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably and then felt her mouth open and the entire story spilling out. She told Ron about the moon, how she'd been burned, the visions that had filled her head, and only stopped speaking when she stammered out, "A-and then I was...here, and my bed was gone,"she paused, considering what to say and then mumbled out, "As was my wand." She chanced a glance at Ron and saw that he was looking nothing short of irate. 

"Hermione, why am _I_ here?" 

"Why are..." she echoed slowly, "I don't know! I told you we should get rid of that book but you and Harry insisted that I keep it! _It's a book, Hermione; Just remember who he is, Hermione. _Oy, why do I listen to you?" 

"I dunno, think you'd learn by now, eh?" said Ron.

"Shut up!" Hermione said shrilly.

"Okay, okay. It's not your fault, satisfied? Now can we go back?"

"I. don't. know. how." Hermione repeated, her voice shaking with frustration, "Read my lips, Ron Weasley, I haven't the faintest idea how the hell to get out of here!"

Ron looked disbelieving. "You mean, you _really_ don't know where we are?"

"NO!" shouted Hermione.

"So, we don't know where we are, it's the middle of the night, and I'm wearing my pajamas..." said Ron.

"Don't look at me like that," snapped Hermione, catching the distrustful expression Ron was sporting. "Er...we might've sleep walked."

"I don't sleep walk, Hermione," sighed Ron, "You have that book with you?"

Hermione held up the book between two fingers, only grasping the corners. "Don't touch it," she whispered.

"Let me see it," Ron replied, making a grab for it. 

Hermione backed up, her voice tense, "No, you can't. Stay away from it, Ron."

"Hermione," said Ron.

"_No,_" said Hermione sharply.

Ron sighed, "I have a wand, you don't. Let me see the book," he said.

Hermione glared at him, "Don't you threaten me." 

Ron stepped forward abruptly and snatched it from her hand. He flipped through it, and then said in a dull growl, "Hermione, how dense are you?"

"What?" Said Hermione stiffly.

"I said how thick are you? I told you now to write in this thing," he shoved it into her hand, flushing.

Hermione leafed through it and found that there was, indeed, something written on the first page. A date was printed atop in clean, red ink as well. A single sentence was scrawled in minuscule calligraphic lettering. "_Hermione and Ron stand quarreling in an empty field_," she read slowly. "Well, that's funny. That's precisely what we _are _doing _now. _And if you had any brains, Ron, you'd realize that I can't have possibly written that, because I haven't anything to write with."

Ron scratched his head, "Odd," he said in a gentler voice.

Hermione shot him an irritable look, "Odd? It's not _odd. _Ron, this book's dangerous! I knew it, I knew we should've given it back to Malfoy when we had the chance."

She opened the book again and read thoughtfully, "_They continued to argue, until soon after, when they stumbled upon Hermione's wand._" Hermione looked pensive and then said slowly, "My wand? Where is it, anyway?"

"I don't know and I don't care!" said Ron huffily, "I'm tired, I want to go back."

"We can't go back now, so don't even think of it. Help me find my wand," replied Hermione, "We're not even thinking of returning until..."

"Over there," interjected Ron cautiously.

"What? Where?" Said Hermione, glancing in several directions at once.

"Over there," Ron said, in more of a hiss then a whisper. He pointed to a patch of shrubbery and forest. There was a dull glow near the tree's base.

"Right," said Hermione briskly, hurrying towards it.

Ron grasped her roughly by the arm and pulled her back, "Don't." he said pointedly.

"Don't? Ron, I want my wand back."

Ron glared at her.

"Look, if we get my wand we can go back," she added.

Ron tapped her sharply on the shoulder. 

"What?" Hermione asked.

He mouthed silently like a fish out of water, and then stiffly gestured towards the tree. There was nothing by the base.

"We aren't alone, Hermione," Ron breathed heavily.

"Tell me something I don't know," Hermione growled.

The wind swept about the air, making the tall grass ripple like water. It suddenly felt very cold. Hermione shivered.

"Well, let's get on with it," said Ron slowly, taking a cautious step forward. It was silent, except for the soft whispering of the field. Ron moved forward one more step. Silence. He began to walk forward, catlike, Hermione tiptoeing one inch behind him. Hermione could swear she heard an occasional murmur, but kept her thoughts to herself.

"I don't see anything," she murmured in Ron's ear. 

"Be patient," he replied, "and be quiet."

Hermione was about to make a smart retort when she saw a slight movement flicker past the corner of her eye. "R-Ron," she started hesitantly. 

"Mmm...?" said Ron, his eyes fixed forward.

"T-That s-sh-shadow," Hermione stammered.

"What shadow, Hermione? I don't have time for this crap. Now stop it," spat Ron.

"I'm not s-seeing things," Hermione choked out.

"Quit it," replied Ron sharply, cutting her off.

"_Lumos."_

Ron turned around and grinned at Hermione, "Brilliant! You found your wand, now we can..." he lowered his voice to a whisper, "Hermione, why isn't your wand lit? Where's your wand? I just heard you..." His voice trailed off. 

Hermione bit her lip, "Who is it?" she said timidly.

Ron had paled considerably and said shortly, "I don't know and I don't care to find out." He then took Hermione firmly by the hand and began to walk briskly in the other direction. Hermione promptly shook him off.

"Ron," she pleaded, "please don't go, I _need _my wand."

Ron licked his lips and said in a choked voice, "Hermione, we just can't. It might be some horrible thing that'll eat us both."

Hermione stood her ground and said flatly, "Fine, but I'm not leaving."

"Hermione..." said Ron beseechingly.

"It's alright, Ron," said Hermione gently, "You stay here, alone in the dark, with no way to get back, and I'll go ahead by myself." she paused and added, "Or did you forget that we have no clue where we are and no way of getting back to the school?"

Ron swallowed and then said resolutely, "Lead the way."

  
  


Hermione kept searching the deepest recesses of her memory. She couldn't make out the scenery in the dark, but there was something familiar about this place. Even the sounds reminded her of some far away thought. Ron seemed to be familiar too. Well, of course he was familiar, she'd seen him every day for the last five years. But this was different, it was as if she was pulling him from some distant memory that she'd forgotten. And now, it had suddenly popped back into her head.

"Hermione," croaked Ron.

"Huh?" said Hermione, pulling herself out of her own mind.

"Over there," said Ron, his voice steadier then before.

Hermione looked about and saw a lean figure standing against a nearby tree. She could only make out the silhouette, illuminated under a faint light, but it grabbed her exactly as Ron had. It reached into her thoughts and said quite plainly, yes, you know me. She opened her mouth and said softly, "Give me my wand right now."

Ron gaped at her, "You know who that is?"

Hermione nodded fervently, "I know him. But I don't see him."

"Pardon?" said Ron casually.

Hermione shook her head and advanced upon the figure. He was still leaning against the tree, and she could now see that he had hair that was so blond it looked silver. The moon caught on it, giving off a shimmering effect against the blackness.

Hermione stepped a bit closer, Ron trailing her at a distance. It was a boy who looked about her age. He glanced up at her and flashed her a grin. Then he continued to stare into the night, twirling something idly between his fingers. Hermione felt a surge of anger as she sauntered straight up to him and looked him right in the face. His eyes were steely and grey.

"I still can't see myself," she mumbled almost incoherently. The boy glared at her unblinkingly. 

Hermione pursed her lips, "Draco Malfoy, give me back my wand."


	2. Without Rain: (part 02)

A/N: Wow...I'm so glad everyone liked this fic so much! You're all really cool...anyway, first off there will be both R/H _and_ D/H in here, but not for a few parts. The rating? I know it's not PG 13 now, but there's some language, loads of angst, and er...some innuendo at times. Other then that, I'm sorry that it's going to be slow getting each part up, but it's really hard to write and I have way too much homework!!!! *ahem* 

Lastly, I know this is confusing. The most I can say is, keep reading because everything will work out, and in each part more will be made clear. And keep reviewing! As long as you do, I'll try very hard to post at least every week. I'll let you know when I start taking votes for who Hermione ends up with. Enjoy...^_^

  
  
  
  


"Your wand?" Draco mused, "Is this _your _wand, Granger? Funny, I just picked it up off the ground. Finders-keepers, I always say."

"Give me back my wand," Hermione repeated in an unreasonably calm voice. "And tell us where the hell we are."

"We?" echoed Draco faintly.

"_We_, Malfoy," said Ron, taking a step forward. 

"Oh alright, you can have it. I don't know what possessed me to take it in the first place," he paused here and sneered at Hermione, "After all, it'd been touched by a mudblood and the filth might have contaminated my hands."

Hermione lunged at him without another thought. Draco lost his balance and slammed into the tree, vaguely mumbling something that sounded like, "ouch."

Ron grasped the back of Hermione's robe and said calmly, "Hermione, don't."

Hermione goggled at him and growled, "_Don't?_ Did you hear what he said, Ron? _Don't_?"

Draco nodded fervently to Ron, and rolled to the side as Hermione made to slap him. Ron pulled her back, and then said in a deadly whisper, "Don't. _Leave him to me."_

Draco was caught unawares and Ron slammed himself against him and began to hit him with both fists.

Hermione winced, "Ron, don't hurt him too much," she said gently. 

Ron pulled Draco up by his hair and gasped out, "Now then, where are we?"

Wincing, Draco said calmly, "You _were_ kicking my ass," he said weakly. Ron scowled at him and he added, "I have no idea. I just came for what's mine. So give me the book and I'll be off."

"You expect us to give that back to you, eh?" said Ron, "You're not getting anything until you explain what's going on!"

"Listen, I really have no idea how..." Draco started defensively, wiping some blood from his lip.

"Liar! You're not in your pajamas," said Hermione swiftly, "So you must have known this would happen."

"I didn't know this would happen," said Draco heavily, "I only knew that _something _would happen."

"Lame excuse," said Ron, raising his fist.

"Wait!" gasped Draco.

"What d'you mean _wait_?" said Ron, lowering his hand grudgingly.

Draco opened his mouth to reply but Hermione said severely, "You have to wait, Ron, because if you beat him up you'll muss his lovely hair." Ron grinned at her and looked quizzically at Draco.

"I knew you had the book, so I knew something like this was bound to happen. I swear I didn't know what."

Hermione eyed him suspiciously, "What's with this book?"

Draco glanced around and Ron tightened his grip, "It was my father's," he said, "Now it's mine. It doesn't record your dreams though. It records your nightmares. I don't know much more about it."

"Why did it write just now?" Hermione asked, snatching her wand from his hand.

"I don't know," said Draco quickly. Too quickly.

"You do so!" said Ron accusingly.

Hermione glared at him, "Just tell us, Malfoy."

Draco groaned and then muttered, "Wake up, Granger. Isn't it obvious?"

Both Hermione and Ron shook their heads simultaneously.

Draco sighed, "I _meant_ wake up," he said. "'Cause right now you're dreaming."

  
  


Both Hermione and Ron stood absolutely silent, and then Hermione said slowly, "I am not."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Fine, don't believe me. I'm only telling the truth."

"Ron, pinch me," said Hermione.

"Sure thing," said Ron with a sly grin.

"On my arm," she added as an afterthought.

"Oh...right." 

"Ouch...see? It hurt. I'm not dreaming," she said smugly to Draco.

"This is no normal dream," Draco insisted, "You can feel pain, you can feel emotion... Granger, you could die!"

"You can't die in a dream. You'll wake up before that happens," said Hermione quickly.

"Exactly my point," said Draco, taking a step forward and steadying himself. Ron automatically reached for his wand. "I'm not about to go anywhere," Draco snapped, "So you can put that away. I know when I'm outnumbered. I'm not a _complete_ twit, despite the opinion of many."

Ron's eyes darted over Draco and then he pocketed the wand. Hermione sighed deeply. This was the last place she wanted to be right now. Outside, in the middle of the night, with one of her best friends, one of her worst enemies, and wearing her nightclothes. Yech. 

"Tell us everything you know," Ron said sullenly.

Draco swallowed and muttered, "I told you everything. Give me back that book and we can get out of here." He held out his hand expectantly.

Ron shook his head, "No. Tell _me_ what to do and I'll get us out of here."

"Stop being stubborn, Weasley. Even I wouldn't leave you and Granger alone in the dark," he paused and grinned smugly, "You two might get bored and have to pass the time. I wouldn't want to be responsible for _that_."

Ron grabbed his wand and backed Draco steadily up against the tree. He pointed it right at his chest and said softly, "Watch it, Malfoy. Hermione might not want me to seriously hurt you, but I have no problem with it. So shut it."

Draco grimaced and shoved away Ron's hand. 

"Quit it!" Hermione's voice broke the silence. "We're all stuck here together, so we might as well try to get along for a few hours." Draco glared at her and she added, "I don't like it any better then you do." A soft pounding echoed in the distance, disturbing her thoughts. She didn't like that sound. And it was uncanny how familiar it was. Ron and Draco, however, were taking no notice. Then again, the way they were shooting daggers from their eyes, she really doubted if an earthquake would have made them look up.

"Fine," Ron said bitterly, thrusting the book into Hermione's hand, "Just don't give him that book."

Hermione sighed in exasperation, "Why not? If he knows how to get us out of here then maybe we _should_ give it to him."

Ron shook his head, "Don't, Hermione. Trust me."

Draco folded his arms and grinned at them both, "Fine. If you don't trust me to get us out of here, then you do it."

Ron stiffened and then mumbled, "Right, I will. Follow me." He began to trudge forward, Hermione and Draco both following almost reluctantly. Hermione knew that Ron hadn't the foggiest notion of where he was going, but they couldn't really get in any worse of a predicament then they were already in...right?

It seemed like they walked for hours on end. The scenery was the same, except that the ground became more and more damp, though it hadn't rained in weeks. Wherever they were, it was very far away.

"I'm thirsty," Hermione croaked finally.

"Then have some water," said Draco wryly, gesturing at a nearby puddle.

"I'm not drinking off the ground, you twit," Hermione replied. She bent down and washed her hands in the deep puddle. The water coated them, and she could feel the coolness against her palms, but somehow, she didn't feel wet. She shook her hands and saw droplets of water spray in all directions. Ignore it, said a stern voice inside her. Just ignore it and it will be as though it never happened. 

"Come _on,_" said Ron tensely. He was determined to get them out of here. And without _any_ help from Draco.

"D'you hear that?" Hermione said, straining her ears. The pounding sounded all around her, as if it was closing in from all directions.

"Uh...hear what?" said Ron.

"That sound...like hooves," she said.

"_I_ don't hear anything," said Draco pointedly, "You're imagining things."

Hermione nodded vaguely. Don't make a big deal out of it, she told herself. Because nobody else hears it, and that's not a good sign. Her head was throbbing. She needed to sit down, but her breath suddenly seemed to be coming in gasps. 

"Ron..." Hermione coughed, deeply breathing in. Her lungs just wouldn't take in the air.

Ron stopped in his tracks and turned around. "Hermione, are you okay?"

Hermione began to choke on her words. The pounding of hooves was everywhere, encircling her and strangling her. She couldn't hear what Ron was saying anymore, the pounding was so deafening and intense. Everything blurred together, in a wash of blackness.

"Damn it, Hermione, stop it!" Ron said frantically. 

"Get out of here," she heard her voice saying. But it wasn't _her_ voice! It sounded transparent and faraway, as if someone had stolen her voice and was using it to get their thoughts across.. "Trust me, Ron. You both have to leave." She couldn't breath, she felt waves of nausea rolling over her, and yet she was talking to Ron as if she were fine. How was that possible?

Everything began to grow darker, until all she could hear was herself choking and gasping for air. 

"I'm not gonna leave you like this!" she heard Ron yell.

But she couldn't bring herself to reply now. Everything was happening to quickly, and her voice had left her. Her breath failed her. She desperately mouthed to Ron, but her lips wouldn't move!

"Get out of here," she heard the voice that was hers whisper for her. Her own voice cracked in pressure and tension. She was swirling around in a mix of color. If you could call it color...actually many shades and tints of black. She felt desolate and alone. There was no night, no Ron, no Draco...only this emptiness that was choking back her voice, breath and life. She opened her mouth and heard her own voice gasp out one word:

"Now."

  
  


She felt hot, as if layers of covers were piled on top of her body. Her eyes fluttered open, and she found that she was laying in her bed, the book clutched tightly in her hands, blankets all around her. It was open to a blank page.

It was only a dream, she thought unsteadily. "..." She opened her mouth to say it aloud, but no words came out. It was as if she'd been muted. She could see Lavender and Parvati sitting only a few feet away, chattering madly.

"You mean they...?" Lavender was saying in tones of awe. Parvati nodded smugly, stifling a giggle. 

"Ewww...that's freaky." Lavender stuck out her tongue, and both began to giggle. Hermione rolled her eyes and waved frantically. Nothing. Was she cloaked in invisibility?

"..." They couldn't hear her, she couldn't hear herself. She moved as if to slide off the bed, but found that her body was set as well. It was a horrible feeling, to be able to see and hear, but not speak or move from below her waist. 

This didn't make sense. They'd been walking for several hours, and yet Lavender and Parvati were acting precisely as they had been when she'd first gone to sleep. She strained to see out the window, but could only see blackness.

Oh no, she thought silently, no stars...

  
  


At first glance, it seemed that he was locked in a cupboard. It was empty, except for a small light on a thin chain that dangled overhead. The cupboard seemed to be enclosed with solid wood and stone, but a faint breeze kept ruffling his hair, making the light swing back and forth and occasionally hitting him on the head.

Ron groaned. Where _was_ he? The last thing he remembered was Hermione...what had happened? She'd been choking...she'd been _dying_! He felt himself growing nauseous at the thought. How could he be so stupid? He had to get out of here, and fast. The cupboard was too small to stand in, so he crawled over to the door. There was a latch on it, and it appeared to be locked. Ron cursed under his breath, scrambling for his wits back.

He'd been kneeling over Hermione, and she'd told him and Draco to leave her and get away. Get away _now_. 

But of course he hadn't listened, he couldn't just leave her there! 

That was when he'd blacked out.

He reached a trembling hand out and lightly brushed his head. Ouch. He pulled his finger away to see it tipped with blood. Impatiently, he wiped it away and began to fiddle with the lock. He didn't have time for pain right now!

"Open up," he growled, trying to use his nail as a pick.

The door swung open with a loud creak.

"Funny, I swear that I didn't..." Ron trailed off as he looked up. He felt a scream escape his lips.

"There's been a mistake," said a cold voice. The door swung shut with a click.

  
  


Hermione let out a shriek. At least she would have, if she had her voice. She felt a searing ache in her head, as if her thoughts were all jumbling together. Nothing made sense except for one voice that stood out of all the rest. 

_ Rest and dream._

Over and over again she repeated this, turning it at all different angles in her mind. She knew she should heed the advice, but she just couldn't, too much was going on.

Slowly, she began to lull back to sleep, her eyes closing and then flickering back open. The last thing she remembered was someone running towards her. Who was it and what were they saying? They'd been looking at her...but they hadn't seen her...because they...couldn't...

She drifted off and didn't awake.

  
  


"I'm back," her voice flowed from her mouth, smooth and flawless.

"Brilliant deduction, Granger," Draco said. He was sitting on the ground, carelessly plucking up blades of grass. 

Hermione glared at him. "For the last time, Malfoy, what's going on?"

Draco shrugged, "Search me."

She glanced around, noting where they were. This was where she'd gotten sick, this was where she'd been when she awakened...or was it when she slept? She couldn't tell anymore. Hermione sighed and sat down. There was something she needed to ask him, but her mind was drawing a blank. Draco turned to her.

"Lonely?"

Hermione felt her voice stick to her throat and a rush of panic seize her, "_Where's Ron_?" She screamed.

Draco stared at her, his pale face glistening with sweat. He looked tired, but his eyes were still unreadable and vacant. "I'm not sure."

"What do you mean you're not sure?" Hermione gasped. "You were there!"

"Listen Granger, we _both_ blacked out. It just took you longer to get back here because you were too dense to realize it."

"Realize what?" she said sharply.

"Never mind that," said Draco, beginning to pace.

"Was that your voice I heard?" Hermione said severely.

Draco shrugged again, flashing her his character sneer.

"Where's Ron?" Hermione said wildly, desperately trying not to shake.

"I don't know!" Draco snapped, "Granger, we were_ all _in the same state as you, it just took us longer because you held the book. When I came to, and managed to get back here, Weasley was gone!"

Hermione pushed back all the questions that were weighing down her mind and focused on what she most wanted to know. "Is he alright?"

A faint smile lit up Draco's features and then vanished, "I doubt it."

Hermione jumped up and grabbed Draco by his robes, aiming her wand at his chest. "Give me a reason to do it and I will," she said in a strained whisper. 

Draco smirked at her, "You wouldn't." 

Hermione felt her hands balling into fists. Of course, she wouldn't. She knew it, Draco knew it, everyone knew it. She bit her lip and released him. Her voice was tremulous this time, and so soft that it wasn't even a whisper. "Please..."

For a split second, she saw a flicker of light in Draco's eyes, he glanced at the ground and then said quietly, "He might be. For now."

"What can I do?" Hermione pleaded.

"Find him," he replied smartly.

"I'm not in the mood for games! Do you know where he is?" Hermione pressed on.

Draco pointed idly at her pocket. Hermione nodded approval and took out the book. Just to touch it sent chills down her body. She opened it up to see a full description up until she blacked out. There was a space, and then an account of her return. Nothing in between.

"What do I do with it?"

"Wait," said Draco.

Hermione closed the book and tapped her foot impatiently for a moment, then she opened it again and read,_ "The two traveled north, following the shadow's path."_ Hermione shook her head, dismissing the last part, and drew out her wand. _"Point me."_

As the wand came to a halt in her palm, she turned to Draco. "Well?"

He looked confused. That was the only word for it. As if he was having a battle with his own wits. "Hermione..." he began.

"What?" Hermione asked sharply.

"I can get us back. Just give me the book and we can get back right now, and everything will be just as it was."

Hermione stared at him, "What about Ron?"

Draco sighed, "Things aren't always as they seem."

"Talk in English, you prat! Will Ron get back with us?"

"No," said Draco.

"Then I won't go!" snapped Hermione.

"It's dangerous here," said Draco. He looked tense, as if every word was costing him great effort. "If you don't go now...I don't when you will...or if..."

"I won't leave Ron here. What sort of horrible person would do that?" Hermione replied. "Oh, wait, I forgot who I'm with," she added acidly.

Draco flinched, and Hermione regretted her words immediately. He composed himself and said flatly, "Fine."

Hermione tossed him the book, her eyes flashing. "Go ahead, go back. I'll go find Ron."

Draco turned the book over as if searching for an answer. He flushed and said slowly, "_We'll_ go find Ron."

"Oh," now it was her turn to flush, "Alright. But...why?"

Draco sighed heavily and mumbled, "Remember what I said before? About how it took you longer to get back here?"

"Uh huh," said Hermione.

He sat down on the grass and dappled his finger in the water. Hermione knelt down beside him, "What is it, Mal.." she paused uncomfortably and then said gently, "Draco?"

Hermione also touched a finger to the water. For a moment, she saw ripples of red spreading from her fingertips. She took her hand away, clutching it to her chest. Draco stared at her dubiously.

"It took you longer then me to realize it, because I already knew where you were. I already knew where I was," he said shortly.

"Knew what?" Hermione sighed desperately.

"I already knew that we were trapped here, now. And that this," he held up the book, "was the only way back. Of course, you didn't know it."

Hermione could feel him shaking slightly beside her. "Draco...what are you trying to tell me? Please...I _need_ to know."

"Because we're trapped here now, Hermione," he said again, "Trapped within your dreams."

"What?" Hermione gasped disbelievingly. 

"I forgot it's not a dream. I just couldn't be..." said Draco bitterly, interjecting his self.

"Couldn't be what?" she could barely find her voice anymore.

"I forgot that this couldn't be a dream. We're trapped in your nightmares."


	3. Without Rain: (part 03)

A/N: A lot happens in this part, it's more eerie and scary then the others. Besides that, I really don't have much to say. Thanks to everyone who reviewed...it was nice to hear from you. If you keep reviewing I'll keep writing *pouts* Please? Oh yeah, and don't despair yet because romance is coming in like, 2 parts. I'm just afraid to write any... so in advance, don't scream at me because something happens with Hermione and...*fill in a name* Because everything can change and...On with the story...

  
  


Ron sat pressed against the back wall of the cupboard, his knees drawn tightly up to his chest. He ran a hand through his hair and looked at it. Sweat mixed with streaks of blood coated his fingers. He felt wretched.

He also felt something else...well, besides the biting pains all through him. He'd felt it a few other times, but not to the extremities that he now felt it. It was as if it was pouring through his veins and coursing throughout him.

He didn't like the way it felt, this fear.

  
  


Draco lay sprawled on the ground, Hermione on top of him, her hands at his neck, mumbling furiously. "That's the most ridiculous, far fetched, impossible..." she said menacingly.

Draco shook his head and said, "Nothing's impossible."

"What did you do to Ron?"

"Me?" echoed Draco, "I didn't do anything to your _dolt_ of a boyfriend. I can't control what you dream, Hermione."

"For the last time, I'm not dreaming!" She said loudly.

"You are."

Hermione tightened her grip on his robes. Draco grinned at her, "Is this supposed to be threatening? Because really, I'm rather enjoying it..."

Hermione furiously let go of him, letting his head slam into the ground. She stood up, towering over him and said quietly, "Give me proof."

Draco raised an eyebrow and said, "the book. It's a dream book."

Hermione glowered at him.

He sighed and continued, "Muggles use them to record dreams. In our world, they suit the same purpose. Only they allow you to relive your nightmares, any time you want."

"Dark magic?" said Hermione numbly.

"The darkest," said Draco with a faint sneer. 

"I don't recall having this dream," said Hermione.

"So? You don't always remember your dreams."

Hermione shook this off and said quickly, "Why have you been carting this book around with you?"

Draco fidgeted. "It's important. My father needed me."

"Needed you?" Hermione repeated faintly.

"Shut up. I don't feel like talking about this anymore," said Draco stiffly, getting unsteadily to his feet.

"Of all the people to be stuck with..." said Hermione.

"You're stuck with _me_," said Draco promptly, "Lucky."

Hermione glowered fiercely and they lapsed into silence. Later, Hermione realized that she'd been trudging along for hours, but her feet seemed to move by themselves. How could she be dreaming? She felt aware and awake. Still, dreams could be awfully realistic at times.

"Draco?" she said softly.

"Yeah?"

"Where are we going?"

"I believe we're going to save your boyfriend," he replied pointedly.

"Ron's not my boyfriend, and that's not what I meant," Hermione snapped. "What's our destination?"

Draco shrugged his shoulders. "Hermione, I don't any more about this then you do." He paused and a smug grin lit his features, "Well, maybe a bit more."

"Draco, you actually have a _faint_ idea of what's going on. I, on the other hand, have none. So don't give me that rubbish."

Draco bit his lip, "Last chance," he said sullenly.

"Huh?"

"This is it. Hermione, we're going to be in trouble if we don't go back now," his face was masked and blank.

"I'm not walking away and leaving Ron to cope. He's my friend, and that means that I have to find him. And you're coming with me."

"Of course I'm coming with you," Draco said dully. "Hermione?"

"What?" said Hermione hurriedly.

"Y'know you have something I've always wanted."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "What's that? A nightgown?"

Draco sniggered, "Nope," he said, running a hand through his sleek hair. "Devotion."

  
  


"How could you let this happen?" 

Ron pressed his ear against the door, straining to hear more.

"I-I..." This was new voice, tremulous but firm.

"Just fix it." the first voice again, cold and slightly amused.

"Of course, I'm so sorry...please, believe me, I never knew..."

"Really? Then don't just fix it, make it as though it never was." There was the swishing of a cloak, and the tapping of footsteps leading steadily away. Ron heard the second voice give a soft growl, and then there was a sharp knock on the door. 

He could hear someone fumbling with the latch. The door swung open. Ron had just enough time to recognize the face before him before he was thrust up by the collar and thrown against the wall. 

Lucius Malfoy glared viciously at him.

"Why are _you _here?" he hissed.

"I really like being hit on the head, blacking out, and being locked in cupboards, that's why!" Ron spat viciously.

"Watch your tongue, boy," Lucius said softly.

"Do you think I want to be here?" Ron tried to get up but realized that his body wasn't quite up to supporting his weight.

"You're one of the Weasley's." It was a statement, not a question.

"Right, I am, what of it? Am I here so that you can beat the crap out of me? Because it's not going to do you any good!"

"I am not here for that reason. You are here by mistake." The man's voice was cool and steady, but Ron could see that he was shaking under his hooded cloak.

"Mistakes happen," said Ron coldly. "You've made loads of them."

"No, boy, you're the one who's a mistake. And mistakes don't happen to _me."_

"Are you telling me Draco wasn't a mistake?" said Ron in spite of himself. 

"Don't talk that way to me!" Lucius snarled.

Ron heaved a great breath and then said, "I'll talk to you however the hell I want to..." But he was cut short as Lucius lowered his hood and said lightly.

"I just told you mistakes don't happen to me. You are a mistake. You were not supposed to be here."

Ron blanched.

"Therefore, I have to get rid of my mistake. Make it as though it never happened..."

  
  


"_Ron_!" Hermione hissed suddenly, stopping dead in her tracks.

"Could you stop talking about Weasley for a split second?" snapped Draco.

"No, I mean, yes, but..." Hermione gasped, "Something's wrong. I don't know what, but something..."

"How would you know?" said Draco, voicing exactly what she'd been wondering.

"I'm not sure..." she looked at him and then said softly, "It's my dream, isn't it?"

Draco nodded, "You _should_ know what's happening."

"That's it, then. We have to get to Ron," Hermione quickened her pace. 

"Why?" Said Draco.

"Look at this," she said swiftly, bending down. She brushed a rather large puddle with the tip of her finger, and red swirled out in all directions. Draco looked at her blankly.

"Blood," whispered Hermione.

"Are you alright?" said Draco, gripping her hand nervously.

Hermione instinctively withdrew from his hold. "I'm fine. But Ron's _not_."

Draco sighed, "I'm going as fast as I can. Considering that we have no real destination, speeding up won't do us any good."

"I know..." Hermione sighed hopelessly. She sank onto the cool grass and lay down on her back. "Look at that..." she said pointing at the sky.

Draco lay down next to her, pointedly avoiding any water that might ruin his clothing, "What?"

"You mean you didn't notice? There's no stars."

"There's never any stars, Hermione. Not for me," he said absently.

"What d'you mean?" Hermione whispered, propping herself up and facing him. Draco looked weary and even paler then usual.

"How can you have stars if you have nothing to wish for?"

  
  


Looming ominously in the distance, blocking out both the sky and ground stood the castle. Hermione felt a pang of fear jolt her, just from laying eyes on it. The air smelled cold and tangy, as a night smells just before a shower of rain. 

"What's that?" she asked Draco.

He shook his head and said quietly, "I believe that's where we're headed."

"Brilliant," Hermione said croakily. 

"It'll be a long trek from here," sighed Draco.

"I've been here before," she said.

"What's inside?" Draco said sullenly, his eyes flickering for a moment. 

Hermione paused, "I don't know. I've never actually been inside."

Draco yawned, "D'you think we might get some rest?"

Hermione scowled, "No."

"I need my beauty sleep," he said promptly. 

"You sure do," Hermione giggled, ducking out of the way as he made to push her. 

"Hermione..."

"Huh?" she said. Draco looked as if all color had been drained from his body. 

"What are you playing at?" he said softly. Hermione followed his eyes down to her feet. Her stomach leapt to her throat. She was standing on water. 

Red water.

"Playing at?" she echoed, "I'm not playing at anything, Draco Malfoy. I don't know...Can you do it?" 

Draco shrugged and stepped forward. Immediately, he was up to his waist in water, looking very cross indeed. "Guess not," he said crisply.

"This is too weird," Hermione muttered, grasping him by the hand and pulling him out. She whipped out her wand and whispered, "_Solidify,"_ pointing at Draco's feet. 

"Now you can walkwith me," she said smugly. Draco grinned at he stepped on a puddle and it turned to ice beneath his feet with a sharp crack. The moment he stepped off, he could see the reflection of the sky back on water.

"It's not red where you walk," Hermione scowled. 

"Guess you're just special," Draco grinned.

"I'd rather not see blood wherever I touch. You're welcome to it."

"You don't know that it's blood," Draco said in a matter-of-fact tone. 

"It sure seems like it. Red reminds me of blood, and it makes me uneasy, anyhow," replied Hermione.

"Well, you're still special for other reasons," Draco said coolly.

Hermione felt herself blushing, and prayed that Draco couldn't see well in the dark.

  
  


"Do you know what I went through for this?"

Ron could feel his insides squirming. He couldn't tell if it was fear, or pain, or if it was just the way you felt with a full body bind on you. All seemed likely at the moment.

"It wasn't meant to happen, but we can use it to our benefit," Lucius didn't sound quite so strong and defiant now, Ron thought smugly.

"How?"

Lucius whimpered, "We don't n-need to k-kill him yet. We can use him to our advantage. I'm sure he knows..." his voice trailed off.

"It would have been simpler without him."

"Yes, of course, but this may work out all the same..." Lucius was now pacing the length of the room.

"Take the spell off. We'll get information from the boy and then kill him."

Ron felt his stomach clench.

Lucius sauntered over and pointed his wand at Ron's chest, "Yes, my Lord."

  
  


"Do you horse back ride ever?" Hermione said groggily, flicking a wisp of hair out of her eyes.

"Horses are really lovely," said Draco, yawning loudly.

"I think there are some around here," Hermione said with a shrug. "Hear the hoofbeats? _I_ keep hearing them..."

"No, I told you that before. I'm tired," he muttered, slumping onto the ground.

"Only a bit more, Draco. Come on..."

"I need a horse," Draco grinned at her.

"You need sleep," Hermione mumbled.

Draco shook his head, "If I had a horse, then I could ride it all over the world, leaving anything else far behind me."

"Why would you wanna do that?" Hermione questioned.

"To get away from everything," he replied.

"Like...?"

"Everything. I can't think of one thing that I wouldn't want to get away from. My father, my Mum, school, life...There's not much that I actually enjoy. If you don't count making other people's lives miserable."

"You're good at that," Hermione murmured, scowling at him.

"Guess so," Draco said, getting back up.

"I _do_ hear hooves, though. I heard them before Ron disappeared as well. That was when I..." she trailed off, searching for the right words, "I woke up."

Draco shook his head, "I don't know how that's possible."

"Me either. I was in my bed, I could see Lavender and Parvati..." she coughed and then whispered, "But they couldn't see me. And I couldn't move."

Draco grimaced, "Let's go find Weasley."

"Right," Hermione muttered.

Soon enough, there was no ground, only water. Draco constantly flinched when walking, and continuously stopped moving entirely, but Hermione was a different matter. As she walked, she felt as if an invisible hand was pulling her forward and pushing her onwards. It didn't scare her, actually, she found it to be quite the opposite. She wanted to go with it, she wanted it to lead her to her destination. If Draco found anything odd about her behavior, he didn't let on. Rather, he was quite silent and seemed to be focusing on where he stepped. Walking on water gave him a sense of power...but it was also scary. The air seemed to be growing forever colder as they neared the castle.

Draco watched as his every word lingered in the frigid air and then faded. "Hermione," he said, panting, "Can we just rest a moment?"

Hermione felt a surge of power shooting through her body. It was as if her body was not hers, but only a shell that barred her from the outside world. She didn't even glance at him. She wanted to get to that castle. Now.

"Just for a minute," Draco said in a pleading tone. His neat hair was matted to his head, and his skin was tinged pink from the cold.

"No," said Hermione, her voice oddly transparent. "Ron will be grateful."

Draco sighed, "He'd better be more then grateful. I want him groveling at my feet when this is over."

"Malfoy, you'd better go," Hermione said grimly.

"Go?" Draco repeated absently. "I'm not going anywhere. And what's with this Malfoy crap all of a sudden?"

"I need to do this alone," she insisted. Still, Draco couldn't help but notice that her voice sounded strained.

"You can't, Hermione. I'm not letting you go in there alone."

Hermione whipped out her wand in one, sleek, movement. "You'd better go, Malfoy. I'm going there alone. That means without you."

Draco glared at her. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing. Now go..." Hermione tightened her grip on the wand.

Draco grimaced, "Fine, I'll go. But if you need my help, Hermione, just think. Got that?" He paused for effect, "Think." Then he sprinted away.

Hermione felt a jolt in her chest, as if she'd just been zapped with electricity. She wanted to yell to Draco, to tell him to come back, but when she opened her mouth she said simply, "Finally, now I can finish my work."

  
  


Panting, Hermione's felt her hands heaving her onto solid land. Red water...blood, said a voice deep in her chest...was pooling out from the island that the castle towered upon. She pulled herself onto the bank and heaved open the door. Almost immediately, all sound died away. It was pitch black within, as if the moon had been blocked out.

Hermione took one more step forward. She felt her head spinning and throbbing. What was happening? Where was Draco? She didn't like being alone in this situation...

Hooves pounded in her ears. "Damn," Hermione whispered, taking an unsteady step backwards. Every bit of sense she had flew from her at that moment, leaving her with but one thought. Get into the castle.

The pounding was growing louder. It was as if one thousand dementors were surrounding her from all sides, cornering her and sucking in the air she breathed with their low, rattling breaths. She cringed, a sob threatening to escape her lips. With her last ounce of strength, she dragged her feet forward and set herself inside the castle. 

She was jolted back as something gripped her by the neck. Her breath left her.

  
  


"Do you know what this?" Lucius said in a deadly voice, wafting the scent of a glass vile toward Ron. Ron could feel his heart beating against his chest.

"Truth potion," Ron whispered, his knuckles white against the floor.

"Take some," Lucius growled placing it directly under Ron's nose. He could feel his throat choking up. 

Ron furiously shook his head, "Get that away from me!" he snarled.

"I think not," Lucius replied coolly, setting the bottle down.

"I'm not scared of either of you!" Ron spat, well aware that his every word was trembling. 

"Take care of him, Lucius. I have other business to attend to." There was the swish of a cloak, and only Ron and Lucius remained. Ron shuddered involuntarily.

Lucius immediately regained his composure and said softly, "You will be taking this in a few moments. And then we'll know..." he trailed off, a demonic glint dancing in his cold eyes. "But first, I want you to see..."

"See?" said Ron sharply, his face taut and absent of all emotion save fear.

"Mmmm..." said Lucius, nodding absently. "Look from this window..."

Lucius waved his wand and Ron felt his body being stiffened again. He felt as if ropes were being coiled all about him, so tightly, far too tightly...he had to gasp for his breath. Then, his body was being lifted into the air, and steadily he raised up and up and up...

Now he could see outside. He was just floating there, unable to blink or look away. All he could do was gaze out of the window. The cracks and cobwebs coating it had no affect on his view. It was like watching a play unfold. He didn't see where this was going. Then a movement stirred below. The water coated ground rippled in one steady movement. Ron felt a sharp pain jerk his chest. "Hermione..."

  
  


Hermione could feel the steadfast grip on her neck, but she couldn't see who actually had her. It was as if her eyes had been glued shut, and no matter how much she struggled she couldn't see. She was being dragged backwards, her body floating along with her. It was a very strange feeling.

Suddenly, she came to a halt. Her eyes snapped open. 

The air was colder here, and there was a thin line of mist carpeting everything. The ground was still watery, but it was thicker here, and more silvery in color. She turned around and let out a piercing shriek, before breaking into a run. Her breath was cut off and she began to choke as she was dragged back by her neck, the same invisible force coaxing her. 

Trapped.

Her first impression was that of a ghost, that had somehow gone awry. But it wasn't the pearlescent white that a ghost was. Rather, it was a clammy gray. There was no face, only a bleak oval where one should have been, and the body was nothing more the a black streak, hovering above the ground. In all its emptiness and lack of features, it still managed to fill her with fear. She also felt a sadness through her, and then a spurt of joy trilling through her veins. Then an emptiness, and then pure surprise. She couldn't explain the sudden changes in her emotions, and they made her sick with unease. 

"What the hell are you?" she gasped. The air around her suddenly turned icy. It was so cold that Hermione felt the need to move slightly, just to keep herself from being frozen in place. She felt miserable and lifeless, nothing was right anymore, nothing would _ever_ be right again! If she could have one wish at that moment, it would be to lay down and die.

Well, no wonder.

In all her time as a witch, Hermione had never felt the panic seizing her that she felt right now. Dementors were crowding about her by the hundreds. Their hands protruding slightly from under their filthy cloaks. Around them, were creatures to which she'd never seen the likes. They had hooves that were curled into claws at the end, and red, fiery eyes, dotted with pure white. They looked like horses for the most part, but their bodies were made of shadow. That explained the pounding, she thought weakly. A wave of nausea rolled over her. The ghostly creature that had pulled her from the castle sank into the silvern ground. Two dementors glided over to her, wrapping their filthy, skeletal hands around her wrists. 

"Let go of me!" Hermione screamed, her voice piercing the silence around her. Her strength was failing, leaving her...she just didn't have the will to fight back. Wherever they took her, surely it couldn't be worse then this...could it?

"Somebody, anybody, help me, help me," Hermione whispered. She didn't have enough feeling in her to cry. Maybe that was a good thing... "If only...something...maybe...just once..." her head slumped onto her chest, it was all too much...

That was when the window above her shattered.

  
  


A/N: Don't you just love cliff hangers? Next time: Hermione enters the castle, Draco and Ron have a fight (what else is new?) Ron and Hermione are locked up together, and someone shows up on the scene who you probably expected by now, it was really insinuated already...


	4. Without Rain: (part 04)

A/N: Wow, everyone seems to really like this so far! Cool, er...because I have such writer's block right now, and I just don't know what to write. Is everyone liking it so far, because I'm really trying to keep it good, but I dunno...*scowls* Oh well, I'll try to hurry it up. I'm not sure who Hermione's ending up with as of now, but I have some ideas. I want to warn everyone now, that around this part this start's getting extremely angsty. For everyone. With that said, on with the story...

  
  


Ron blinked rapidly. It had been a long time since he'd lost control of his magic and made things happen without a wand. In this case, he was relieved. Lucius had a slightly nettled expression on his face, and mumbled indirectly, "Well, this does make things more difficult." 

Ron picked himself off the ground. His entire body was aching now. Being dropped from some ten feet in the air does that, he quipped. For a brief moment, he tossed over the idea of making a run for it. But he couldn't leave Hermione out there, struggling to retain her soul. His heart gave a horrible jolt. 

"Hermione!"

Lucius whirled around at the sound of Ron's voice. Ron took out his wand, he'd all but forgotten he had it. "Don't you come near me..."

Lucius smirked at him, "I hardly think you know enough to so much as give me a nosebleed..."

"Don't bet on it," Ron said. He had to buy more time...he had to talk...

There was a low sweeping of air from below. 

  
  


Hermione cringed as shards of glass littered the air. Pain didn't seem to affect the dementors, nor did they feel fear. Confusion, however, seemed to be one of the few emotions they possessed. Hermione breathed heavily, trying to breath some of her wits back. Why had the window exploded like that? She looked up to see nothing but a broken frame and jagged glass. Nothing behind it, nothing before it. She had to think, before something...

"Think," she whispered aloud, barely restraining the urgency in her voice. "Think...Oh, damn it, Hermione, think!" She racked her brains, but could only come up with vague thoughts of herself being saved miraculously without any plot behind them. Someone would come and save her, she'd never died, she never would die...

Vaguely, she thought of conjuring up a patronus. But she found that she had no memories in her mind now, only sadness and regret. Besides, she didn't even recall the spell. Ironic, she thought bitterly, Hermione Granger not remembering the one spell she could actually use. The dementors looked as though they'd recovered from the confusion, and were now closing in on her once more, very slowly, making it last. Someone would save her, something always saved her just when things looked so hopeless...

"Hermione." It was not a surprised, scared, or even frustrated and confused voice. She looked up and saw Draco standing over her, scowling deeply. Hermione let out a gasp and stood up, collapsing into his arms. "What happened?"

"You were gone and the dementors came and they took me, but first this grey thing grabbed me and dragged me here and..." she rambled out.

Draco sighed, "Give me your wand." Hermione thrust it into his hands. 

"Can you make a patronus?" she said hurriedly, her knees shaking as more and more happiness drained from her mind. 

A slight smirk lit his features, "I don't have enough happiness in me as it is. And with this going on..." he gave a cynical chuckle. "_Haud videor_," he said swiftly, raising the wand and doing a full sweep against the air.

A tingling sensation crept over Hermione's body, engulfing her in its rhythmic feel. She looked down to see herself as always, and for a split moment considered herself to be dead. Her body was faint against the black night, not solid. The colors had all been sucked from her, leaving them very faint and vague, if they were there at all. Draco had the same look to him, but his eyes were the same sea-grey as always. He beckoned to her.

"I can see myself. You're not as great at this dark magic as you claim," Hermione snapped at him.

Draco grinned, "The half-invisibility is a fringe benefit. C'mon." Hermione rolled her eyes as he grabbed her roughly by the hand, pulling her right up to the dementors. They all looked nervous and suspicious, continually drawing in their deuced breaths and sniffing the air. She cringed as Draco walked her straight into one. And she went right on walking.

"What was that?" she said in a breathy voice.

"I thought you were supposed to be brilliant Hermione," Draco said as they both passed through a tree. "This isn't an invisibility spell, y'know."

"Oh," said Hermione, then, "Oh! We can walk through solid objects." She felt her emotions leaking back into her as they put more and more space between them and the dementors. "Clever of you," she added.

Draco nodded, as they both stopped at the doors. "Now, tell me everything. Why did you send me away?"

"I...I...don't know. It was just...an impulse. I wanted you to go away, so I..." she searched for the right words. "I _didn't_ want you to go away. I have no _idea_ what happened." She searched his face for some sign of emotion but found nothing. "Why did you come back?"

"Think, Hermione. How many times do I have to tell you that? It's your dream, therefore anything can happen," Hermione hoped that she was imagining the tinge of uncertainty in his words.

"I just want to wake up. I want to wake up in my bed. I want everything to go back to the way it was," Hermione whispered.

"You can only control things within your dreams. Only this book will get us all back. And you said we weren't going back until..."

Hermione went white. So white that even with the spell on she looked pale. "Make me solid," she said, her voice steady but pressed.

Draco waved his wand nonchalantly and said, "_Videor." _

Hermione felt a heavy shiver run through her, and breathed in relief as she saw her own body roll back into full view. "Let's go."

Draco suppressed the urge to flatly refuse, instead pointing his wand at the door in preparation of what was to come. Taking a deep breath, they stepped inside.

  
  


"I need to tell you something," Draco said sullenly. Hermione waved her hand, gesturing for silence. The room was very empty looking, though it was so large. Cobwebs covered everything like garlands, and the air was heavy with musk. A narrow set of steps, spiraling up were in the center. Hermione choked back a sneeze, running a finger over the thin layer of white dust that covered everything.

Draco grimaced, "I _really_ need to, Hermione..." His voice echoed in the vacant space.

Hermione sighed and then turned to him, "Make it fast. Every minute wasted is..." She gulped and then turned her full attention to Draco.

"When you f-found that b-book," he began, fidgeting with his clothes. "You weren't supposed to. I mean, it was a-a mistake."

"Of course," Hermione said, her voice urging him onwards.

"But, it was-was not a mistake that I had it," Draco continued, his voice edgy and forced.

"Really, Draco, are you going to divulge all the family secrets to this mudblood?" Lucius stood at the foot of the stairs, a cold smirk on his face. It didn't reach his eyes.

Draco glared at him, "Don't call her that."

"My own son, speaking to dirt like this. Really Draco, I'd have thought this rubbish beneath your station," Lucius continued, coming closer with each word. Hermione stared at him, her eyes wide and unfeeling. Draco bit his lip.

"Just shut up," he said softly.

"Not a wise choice of words," Lucius scoffed. He whispered under his breath, whisked out his wand, Hermione's wand shot from her hand into Lucius' outstretched one, and Hermione found herself and Draco in a dark room. It was quite small, the only light coming from a single window. The panes cast their intricate designs on the floor.

"A lot of good this is going to do you two. Now how're you planning on getting us out of here?"

Hermione whirled around to see Ron facing the two of them, looking fiercely distraught. 

"Ron!" Hermione cried, flinging her arms around him. Ron grinned at her and then lightly backed away.

"We're in trouble," he said, finality marking his every word.

  
  


"I could have told you that," Draco interjected, scowling at both of them. "I was trying to tell _you_ that," he added to Hermione.

"No, you were telling me something else," she said airily. "What was it?"

Draco glanced at her and opened his mouth. Ron looked at him questionably and he shut it with a snap. "Nothing. It doesn't matter."

Hermione shrugged. "Alright. Now how are we getting out of here?"

Ron sighed, "I don't have a wand either," he said grudgingly. "When I was knocked out your dad must've taken it." He looked at Draco in disgust.

"Leave my dad out of this, Weasley," said Draco.

"He's the one responsible for this, Malfoy! Or did you forget that minor detail?" Ron said menacingly, taking a small step towards Draco. "Did you forget that your dad's a death eater and kills loads of innocent people every day?"

"I _said_ be quiet," Draco said, lowering his voice to a deadly whisper.

Hermione glanced back and forth. "You guys..."

"No, you be quiet! I'm sick and tired of you _and_ your family!" Said Ron, raising his hand threateningly.

"Hermione, how can you stand being friends with him?" Draco said softly, a smirk finding its way onto his face.

"SHUT UP, BOTH OF YOU!" Hermione bellowed, completely forgetting her manners. "We're all in the same boat now, and well, you'd better get used to it."

Ron shot Draco a look of the deepest loathing and then turned to Hermione. "You're right, Herm. We'll just have to get along." He gave her a sugary grin. Draco made a gagging sound in the back of his throat, which earned him a fierce glare from Hermione, Ron mouthing several curses at him, and finally him also nodding in agreement.

"Draco, do you know of any of this?" Hermione said gently.

"_Draco?_" Ron repeated, his voice thick with resentment.

"Draco," she snapped. 

"What d'you mean does he know anything? He's probably right in the thick of it. He probably planned all this and he's suddenly going to stab us in the back and we're all gonna end up dead! And you know _why_, Hermione?" Ron said heavily.

Hermione fixed him with her most hateful stare.

"Because _you_ trusted him!" Ron finished spitefully.

"That's it you..." Draco growled.

"STOP IT!" Hermione shrieked, covering her ears for emphasis. "Haven't we gone through this countless times? Stop bickering and look at the problem at hand: How we're getting out of here!"

And before anyone could answer the door opened.

"I don't think you need to worry about that."

  
  


"YOU!" shouted Ron accusingly.

Hermione looked at Ron blankly, Draco without the faintest trace of emotion.

The man was tall and cloaked. His face was cast into shadow by the darkness of the space, but Hermione had a squirmy feeling in her gut, telling her that she didn't really want to see his face at all.

"Me," the man said pointedly.

"I hate you..." Ron said, his voice a venomous hiss. 

Hermione could feel Ron shaking. It didn't feel like fear...it felt like, well, anger. More then that. It was rage. It was hatred. It was absolute fury.

"I know it. It does not upset me. Many hate me, many love me, many just know of me, not knowing who I really am. But enough of this. I know who you are," he nodded his head at Ron, "And I know who you are," he smiled unpleasantly at Draco. "However I don't know you." Hermione glared at him stubbornly.

"I don't know you either. And I don't care to," she added with far more bravery then she felt.

"The allow me to introduce myself," the man said softly, "You might know me as Lord Voldemort."

Hermione paled. "V-V-vol..." she stammered, unable to bring herself to speak his name.

"That's right," Voldemort sneered. "You, Draco, your father wants a word with you. Come with me." Draco flushed. Ron, however, looked quite satisfied. Hermione looked upset.

"I don't want to talk to him," said Draco, "I don't want to talk to you either."

"Now, now. Surely, you want to follow in your father's footsteps." Voldemort's mouth curled into a thin lipped smile. "One mistake can be fixed, Draco. We will mend it, and it will be forgotten..."

Draco was looking distinctly torn now. He sighed and whispered, "I screwed up, but I don't _want_ to fix it."

"Mistakes _must_ be fixed," Voldemort replied, his voice losing its airy tone.

"I told you I don't want to!" Draco snapped.

"Fix what?" Hermione broke in coldly.

"Come with me," Voldemort said coolly, deaf to Hermione's voice. 

"I'll be right back," said Draco sullenly, following Voldemort from the room. Hermione breathed in deeply.

"What's going on?" she said.

"Don't you see?" Ron growled, "We're dead. You, me, dead. See that Hermione? How does it feel to be a mistake?"

  
  


"I don't want to be like you!" Draco shouted, hearing his own words bouncing off the walls around him as if in a dream. "I wanted to once, but I don't want to anymore!"

"You have no choice. You will follow in my path, everything was set days ago. What changed? What went wrong?" Lucius sighed heavily.

"Nothing went wrong. Something went _right_ for once. You," he spat, turning to Voldemort, "You're obsessed. You could have anything, you could have been great. But you wasted your life, and now your trapped. There's only one thing left that will give you any joy..."

"And what is that?" Voldemort said quietly.

"Killing Potter," said Draco.

Lucius cringed, looking as if he'd be quite thankful to have the floor open up and swallow him.

"And I would have, had you not failed. You're boy's a smart one, Lucius. Too smart," Voldemort said finally, "Where do his loyalties lie?"

"With you, my lord," Lucius said plainly.

"THEY DO NOT!" Draco yelled, bolting upright. "I'm so damn sick of you making all my choices! It's ruined my life. Not anymore though..."

"Go fetch the mudblood and bring her to me," Voldemort replied, simpering.

"I WILL NOT!"

Voldemort thrust one of his long, white hands into his robes and drew out his wand. "You will. And bring the other boy while your at it."

Draco felt his eyes stinging with regret and confusion. _Where do your loyalties lie...? _Slowly, he turned around. "I'll be back in a minute."

  
  


"Why did you listen to him?" Ron half screamed.

"Listen to him? It's not his fault he has a horrible family!" Hermione said severely.

"He knows what's going on!" Ron insisted, "What? You actually think he cares about us or something?" 

"He does care," Hermione said firmly, "Maybe not about you..." 

"He does..." Ron started.

"Not." Draco walked into the room, his face taut and masked. "C'mon, my dad wants a word with you two."

"See? I told you so. He planned all this."

"Shut up, Weasley. You don't know what the hell is happening," Draco opened the door.

"Draco, what's going on? Why is-is you-know-who here? And your dad? Where are we really?" Hermione said in a disbelieving and slightly strained voice.

"Just c'mon, Granger," Draco said bitterly. 

Hermione bit her lip, "You're horrible, Draco Malfoy. I guess I was wrong about you. Pity. I was actually starting..."

"It doesn't matter," Draco cut her off icily, "I don't give a damn what you thought, what Weasley thought, or about what's true." He ushered them down the steps, between Ron's frequent comments ("I told you so."). Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that she was missing something, that there was something behind this...

She shook it off. There was nothing to it. Draco, no wait, _Malfoy_ was just being a bastard like usual. Just like she'd always thought he was. Only now, he wasn't toying with her emotions or feelings. 

He was toying with her life.

"I knew you'd come to your senses," Voldemort's voice drifted from the next room. It sent chills up and down Hermione's body.

"How could I do otherwise?" Draco said, a wicked smile marring his face. Hermione felt more chills, worse ones.

"You," Voldemort said, beckoning to Ron, "Come here."

Ron stalked forward, his face as red as his hair. 

Voldemort handed him a glass vile, a silvery liquid within it. "Drink up," he said lightly, "Or I'll make you."

Ron looked at the liquid. He could practically hear himself spilling his darkest secrets, the truth coming from his pores, and him helpless against it. After a brief moment of indecision, his grip loosened on the bottle. He pried his own fingers away from, it and then let go. The bottle smashed on the floor, potion spilling from it and seeping throughout the room, evenly coating the floor.

"That was a stupid thing to do," Voldemort said in a pointed way.

"Why are we here?" Hermione whispered, stepping from the shadows. Draco looked at her, taking in how scared and lost she looked. He felt his eyes narrowing. How else was he supposed to deal with this new feeling? All other ones could be taken care of with a punch or a sneer...but regret was different...

"You weren't supposed to be," said Lucius, speaking for the first time. 

"You may deal with them Lucius. I'm wearied," Voldemort said weakly, casually flicking his wand, "_Appareo!"_

Hermione felt like the entire room was closing in on her. For the first time she felt like she was seeing the entire room, and she saw cloaked figures in every corner, kneeling on the ground in worship. Had they been there all this time? She felt herself choking on her fear. She was surrounded, and without a wand. Voldemort had long since disappeared.

"What's the deal?" said Ron, stepping in front of Hermione.

"My son is very careless at times, letting my book slip into your hands," Lucius replied. "It was supposed to be for someone else." He shook his head dejectedly, "But we can make this work. Tell me all you know about the Potter boy," He looked expectantly at both of them.

"Is this about Harry?" Hermione gasped.

"Who did you think it was about?" said Draco sulkily. Hermione turned to him, wanting to scream her rage across everything, but found that she could only frown sadly. 

Lucius broke the silence, and her stare, "Draco, do you have the book?"

"I don...." he trailed off, his eyes locking with Hermione's. She saw light and images in his eyes, flickering so far back that they were hardly visible. But they were there. She blinked, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. Draco cleared his throat, "Yes. It's in my keeping." Both Hermione and Ron stared at him. Hermione's finger traced the cover of the book inside her pocket.

"Do not let anyone get it, Draco. Do you swear that you know where it is at this moment?" Lucius' face looked suspicious.

"I swear," Draco said solemnly, winking inconspicuously at Hermione. She glared back.

Lucius gave him an approving nod. Ron shook his head in disgust. His skin was prickling, he could feel the figures all staring at him...death eaters, he thought quickly.

"What does Harry have to do with this?" Ron asked.

"Haven't you figured it out by now, Weasley?" sneered Draco, grinning in a superior way that made Ron want to hit him quite hard. "You're more stupid then you are poor."

"Shut up, Draco," whispered Hermione, her eyes locked on the floor as if it was a very fascinating thing. Draco closed his mouth hastily.

"This girl," Lucius said, making a sweep at Hermione, "Picked up the book. It was a mistake on her part, as well as one on my son's. She was not supposed to have the book. She was not supposed to be here, nor were you," he added, glaring at Ron.

"Then why _are_ we here?" said Hermione.

"I told you already," said Lucius crisply, "By mistake."

"What was the mistake?" Ron said angrily, throwing his hands into the air.

"Harry Potter should have been here. Not you two."


	5. Without Rain: (part 05)

A/N: READ THIS!!! Ok, I have romance in here, and you'll have to read it to find out who's with who. PLEASE remember a couple of things: 1, the tide can always change. 2, I'm trying to please everyone here, so please don't flame me saying why did she do that with...yeah, you get the idea. Whatever happens in ANY parts, don't get mad at me until the end, because things are never what they seem! Well, not never, but quite often. 

And seriously, this fic takes a lot of time, and if no one reviews it I just don't feel it's worth it, barely anyone reviewed the last part *sighs dejectedly* So please do me a favor and review I really have to thank everyone specifically some time, er...at the end. Anyway, I love all of you and you have no idea how much I appreciate the nice reviews...hopefully they won't stop after this part *clears throat nervously* 

Might be a little while before part 6, because I'm just really busy and such. And I am taking votes for who Hermione ends up with now! Review, email me, whatever you'd like. Hope you enjoy it!

  
  


"H-h-harry?" Hermione breathed, stumbling backwards.

Draco gave her a smug grin that made him look angry. "What would anyone want with you two?" 

"The Potter boy should have gotten that book," Lucius was saying to the cloaked figures. His tone was deadly and soft, scarcely above a whisper. Hermione opened her mouth, as if to interrupt Lucius' explanation, but then she whirled on Draco, no longer bothering to keep her voice stable or soft.

"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO US?" she screamed. "How could you do this to me? I trusted you!" 

Ron looked hurt. Draco couldn't figure this out, it made no sense. He and Ron had been equal in their enmity since day one. Why, they possibly hated each other more then him and Harry...Wait. Of course he was hurting. Hermione was upset, therefore Ron was upset. Draco had the fleeting yet strong desire to kick something.

"Do you think you matter to me, Granger? Do you think I give a damn what happens to you?" Draco asked incredulously. He hated himself. He hated his words, his face, his past, his present, even his future...

Hermione felt hot tears coursing down her face. She bit her lip, trying to get the pain to distract her from her emotions. But she was still crying. She was biting her lip so hard that she could taste the spot of blood on her tongue. Everyone was turned to her, the cloaked figures were staring her down, Lucius looked faintly amused, Ron furious...

Draco glared at her for a moment and then stormed up the steps, cursing to himself. Hermione felt herself drawing a blank, and then she raced after him. It was so sudden that no one could have stopped her had they tried. Reaching the top step, she flung open the door in front of her.

"What is your problem?" she breathed. Draco looked up at her. He was sitting by the window, the moonlight bathing his face and pronouncing his already sharp features. His face was completely unreadable. She loathed how she could never read his emotions, even if they were erupting from his core.

"You really don't know?" he said.

"All I know is that you lied to me! Is this what it's all going to come to? Me and Ron, killed? You brought me straight to your father, straight to death!" Hermione raged, "Oh right, and of course straight to the Dark Lord."

"No. I didn't mean this to happen," said Draco, looking down at the floor.

"You didn't mean...?" Hermione said quietly. "How could you have not meant for this to happen?"

"It started out that way. But Hermione, it wasn't meant to end like that," he sighed. 

"But it's going to," said Hermione, "And that's that."

The door swung open so hard that it hit the wall with a thump. Ron glared at Draco, then at Hermione, and then shouted, "WHY THE HELL AREN'T YOU DOING HIS HEAD IN BY NOW?"

Draco looked faintly like his old self, as the familiar smirk crept onto his face. Hermione couldn't suppress a half smile at Ron. He was fuming. 

"Because I happen to think that we should know the whole story before we..." she trailed off, with a meaningful look at Ron.

Ron looked furious, "We don't have time! We have to..."

Lucius and two other figures swept inside the room. Ron looked livid, as he sat down sulkily on the floor. Hermione felt her knees wobbling and she sat down with a thud. Draco stared at her, his eyes piercing through her skin and bone. She shuddered and turned away.

"Lock them up. In the morning we will question them. Then," Lucius sneered at the two figures, and sauntered from the room. Hermione choked back a sob.

Then...?

One of the death eaters grabbed her roughly by both arms and dragged her along the narrow corridor. She was thrust against the wall, the wind almost knocked out of her. Just as she caught her breath Ron flew into her, coughing and cursing at the same time. The door slammed, an audible click was heard, and she and Ron sat silently in the dark. 

"Miserable son of a bitch," Ron muttered. 

Hermione was about to reprimand him when realization seeped into her. Draco had deceived her. He'd admitted it, though he also said there was another side of the story. But nothing could justify this. Nothing could justify their deaths. 

"What are we going to do?" she gasped.

"What can we do? We're going to wait here all night, spill out every secret we have, and then die. Sounds jolly, eh?" said Ron in a falsely chipped voice.

"Be serious for once," Hermione replied bitterly. "If only I could wake up again...or whatever happened."

"That's only delaying the inevitable," said Ron. "Anyway, at least we'll have time to prepare for it. I say we decide on some nice farewell speeches, and then our wills. You can have Pig, Herm, and then..."

"How can you joke at a time like this?" Hermione breathed.

"Because something will save us. Something always does."

  
  


"Why don't you ever listen to me?" Draco whispered, trailing his father. "You said it was a mistake. Well, mistakes can be fixed, but they'll always remain in your memory. Therefore you can only fix it, not erase it. And killing them won't do anything. Nothing will be gained. Father, listen to me..."

"Nothing will be lost either," Lucius replied, quickening his pace.

"NOTHING BUT LIVES!" Draco shouted. 

"A pauper and a mudblood are hardly a loss, Draco. In fact, I'd say it's a gain. One less for Lord Voldemort to deal with."

"You just don't understand," Draco said shakily. "Hermione's parents are muggles, but she's the top in every class. You hear that, father? A _mudblood_ is smarter then your pureblooded, wealthy son."

Lucius glared at Draco with the deepest hate. "You have changed. You are hardly my son."

"I'm glad of it," Draco said very coldly.

Lucius whirled around and slapped him sharply across the face. Draco staggered back, his cheek blotchy and red where he'd been hit. "That's right, go on and hit me! I won't fight back, you always like to pick on those who don't fight back..."

"Shut your mouth, boy, or you'll be feeling more then just a slap across your face," growled Lucius, stalking away as fast as his feet would carry him.

"I CAN TAKE IT!" Draco screamed recklessly. Suddenly, he found that in this moment he had more courage then he'd collected during his entire life. And it was a relief. 

"Don't ask for pain, Draco," Lucius replied.

"What if I want to? What if I don't care?" Draco sneered, "I'm tired of my life. So I'm figuring that I don't have much to lose." Lucius glared at him with contempt. Draco raised an eyebrow in mock thought and added, "Except maybe some blood here, some skin there. But I guess it's worth it to save lives. That's called sacrifice, father. Have you ever heard of that?"

"I'm killing both of them and there's nothing you can do about it," replied Lucius.

"I won't let you."

"You can't stop me." Lucius whirled around and sped up the steps. He flung open the door, Draco racing after him.

Ron blinked in the sudden rush of light. Hermione winced.

"You, boy, come with me," Lucius said angrily. It wasn't a statement, or even an order. Before Ron could say a word Lucius was out the door, dragging him behind him. Hermione let out a squeak and rushed for the door. She hit it with a sickening crunch as Lucius slammed it behind him.

"Are you okay?" Draco mumbled as Hermione frantically rubbed her head.

"Leave me alone!" Hermione shouted, breaking down into tears. "Ron's gonna be killed and I never even got say goodbye! And you know what? It's all your fault! And you're asking if _I'm_ okay?"

"I tried to stop him...but my father's not an easy man to stop," Draco sighed helplessly. "We'll find him, Hermione, I swear..."

"We can't! And we're not going to..." Hermione sobbed. Draco shook his head guiltily and awkwardly put an arm around her. 

"Yeah, we are. Listen, I need to tell you everything first. Will you listen?"

Hermione sniffed, "I guess so. But no matter what you say I'm never going to _forgive_ you."

"So long as you know the truth I can deal with that," said Draco solidly. "First off, you weren't supposed to get the book. I was supposed to make sure it got to Potter. But I screwed up, and you got it. The book is....powerful. It can transport you into your nightmares. But it wasn't working correctly when I gave it to you. Because..." Draco said all of this very quickly, then slowed down his words at the very end. "Voldemort changed it."

  
  


"YOU CAN'T DO THIS!" Ron screamed, desperately pulling at the ropes binding his arms. His wrists were already red and chapped.

"Oh. Can't I?" Lucius scoffed. "But it's too perfect. I simply must."

"I won't let you," Ron whispered, "It's not..."

"But it is. That mudblood's smarter then my son, then you, probably smarter then me."

"Hermione would never do that!" Ron hissed.

"You might not think so, but the Dark Lord knows more then you ever will. You don't know how much a simple thing like your life means to her... "

"What do you want with her?" said Ron.

"Nothing. It's my lord that wants her. He insists..." Lucius sniffed haughtily, "That she will be valuable later on. She would be willing to make the trade under certain...conditions. Once she experiences the power, she will never want to turn back."

"That and the five hundred spells you're sure to put on her!"

"Really, how dare you accuse me of such...treachery," Lucius drawled. Ron glared at him. This couldn't happen...Hermione couldn't...wouldn't...but what if she really did...but surely she knew of what was at stake...

He shivered as the door closed.

  
  
  
  


Hermione blanched. Then she slapped Draco sharply across the face.

"You...you..." she stammered.

"Want some ideas?" Draco asked, rubbing his face. He fluently rolled off several synonyms for Hermione. She glared at him.

"You're all of those things and more. I can't believe you! And here I was, just thinking that you'd changed..."

"I have changed. I'm trying to tell you the _truth_. Now listen to me!" Draco snapped. Hermione stared at the floor but nodded her head. Draco closed his eyes and drew in a sharp breath, gathering all the strength he'd ever had. He'd need it now.

"Father told me to get the book to Potter. He said it was part of an important plot, and only I could make everything work. Potter's invincible it seems, and Voldemort didn't know how to reach him...except through his dreams..." Draco sighed heavily, "You're always vulnerable when you're asleep."

"I can't believe you would have gone through with that," said Hermione.

"I can't either. Not that it matters now. I'd way rather have Potter die, then you. You..." he flushed, "You're not like anyone I've ever known, Hermione."

"Neither are you. And I have to ask myself if that's good or bad. Draco, Ron's going to die. Do you understand that?" Hermione gasped.

"Weasley won't die. I won't let him."

"You can't stop your father, you said so yourself," Hermione replied, drawing out the book. "What do I do with this?"

"Keep it. Don't let anything happen to it. It's your only chance. Weasley's too," Draco flipped through it. Detailed descriptions of everything that happened yet filled it. But nothing about Draco or Ron alone, only about Hermione.

"I'm scared," Hermione whispered, "What if you can't find Ron?"

Draco shook his head, "Don't say it. Don't even think it."

"If anything happens to him..." Hermione drew in a steady breath and leaned back "I'll never ever..." she sighed, and hit her head once against the wall.

"Whatever happens, remember that it's not your fault," said Draco reassuringly. "You know what?"

"What?"

"If we ever get out of here, I'm going to have to go back to being your enemy," said Draco pointedly.

"You don't have to do anything," replied Hermione.

"But I really doubt we could remain..." Draco trailed off.

"Oh, I see," said Hermione dejectedly.

Draco frowned, "I guess I should get out of here."

"Sure," said Hermione, "Be sure to look for Ron, and tell him that I'm alright and that we're going to get out of here. I won't go because it's too risky right now. Tell him what happened, but say it quickly or else he'll probably hit you out, and that would be horrible right now, on top of everything else and..."

"Hermione, stop talking for once," said Draco, wrapping his arms around her waist. 

And he kissed her.

Hermione gasped, almost pulling back in the abruptness of it all, but then she found herself melting. It was as if the room was spinning all around her, and there was absolutely nothing there except them. Lightning zapped through her, and she could feel her head pounding as she kissed him back. She couldn't tell if she was doing it from lust, love or just from...longing. From that vacant place in her that was now being filled up. It was exciting, and new and just invigorating. Draco lowered her to the floor.

"Stop," said Hermione, pushing up on his chest.

Draco sat up, taking deep, steadying breaths. "What?" he gasped.

Hermione swallowed and said softly, "Not now."

Draco grinned at her, "All right. It's been about a minute, is now good?" He pulled her close again. Hermione shook him off.

"I mean it. Not now," she said impatiently, "Go find Ron."

Draco stood up, brushing past her and through the door. "Way to ruin the moment, Hermione," he said spitefully, then stalked out.

  
  


Draco flung open another door as hard as possible. Maybe is he did it enough some of his anger would be flushed away. Each and every room was as empty as he felt. He stormed another door and saw Ron crouched in the corner, his head buried in his arms.

"Hey Weasley, I came to get you out of here," he said.

Ron looked up. His eyes were red and puffy, and his face was blotchy under his freckles. "Leave me alone, Malfoy," he said.

"I'm only trying to help you now," Draco muttered.

Ron paused considerably and suddenly made a valiant struggle to stand, forgetting that he was tied up and could not. "YOU LEFT HERMIONE ALONE? YOU GREAT PRAT!" Ron screamed.

"If she came she might be dead now!" Draco snapped.

"She'll be worse then dead if your father gets to her," Ron said, seething.

"What's going on?" said Draco, paling before his eyes.

"I'm not entirely sure, but it's not just Herm who's gonna be in trouble if you don't get your ass back to that room right now!" Ron growled.

"Hold on." Draco raced from the room and came back a moment later with a shimmery knife clutched in his hands. Ron grinned at him.

"Oh, instant death, always a pleasure," he said sardonically.

"Shut up, Weasley," said Draco, edging closer. Suddenly, he leapt back. His hand was raw and shiny, though he's only touched thin air. "There's a spell around you, Weasley. I need a wand to get you out of here."

Ron sighed, "Don't bother. You've already wasted enough time. Go and get Hermione, and bring her back here. I need to talk to her."

Draco glared at him. At the time it didn't seem any different from his usual glare, but Ron said quietly, "What's with you? I only want to warn her about something."

"Ahh...right. I'll be right back," said Draco, sidling from the room. He crept back to Hermione and pulled her up by the arm. "Weasley wants to talk to you. We have to go before your stuck as well." Hermione raised an eyebrow in question but followed him obediently from the room. 

Ron looked up as they entered. Hermione looked as if to run to him, but Draco held her back. "He's trapped. Invisible wall about him."

"Are you alright?" whispered Hermione, tiptoeing as close to Ron as she dared.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, brushing a wisp of hair from his face.

Hermione pouted, "You are _not_ fine." Her eyes darted skeptically from the dried blood on his head and face, to his ripped pants. 

"Hermione, I need to ask you something."

"Shoot," said Hermione.

"You'd never join the Dark Side, would you?"

Hermione looked shocked, "What sort of a rubbish question is that? Of course I wouldn't! I'd rather...die."

"Promise me. Promise me that no matter what might happen you'd never ever do that. Even if it meant a life, swear that..." Ron bit his lip, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"I don't understand," Hermione whispered. "But yes. Yes, I promise."

"Thank God," Ron breathed, sinking against the wall.

"Weasley, what's going on?" said Draco sharply.

"V-v-v...you-know-who wants Hermione. He wants her to join him," said Ron unsteadily. Hermione let out an audible squeak. "I can't say now," Ron glanced around as if the walls had sprouted eyes and ears. "It might not be safe." He turned to Draco and said accusingly, "If you're trying to help us, then why'd it take you so long to find me?"

Draco and Hermione both looked at each other and turned away. "Couldn't find the room," Draco grunted.

Ron glared at him, "Rubbish, it was easy to find."

"We were talking," Hermione piped in.

Draco sniggered, "It was really interesting," he said with a trace of a grin. Hermione punched him in the arm, trying her best to keep herself from turning red. Ron looked suspicious and irritated. 

"Why do I get the feeling you're not telling me something?" he said slowly.

"Because you're a dolt and you're really thick?" Draco replied innocently.

"Stop it," snapped Hermione, "We don't have time for this. We have to get Ron out of here. And now."

"I'll try to get a wand," said Draco. He looked from Ron to Hermione and added, "Hermione, you stay here and if anyone comes..." he trailed off. "Scream. Scream really loud."

  
  


Each stair creaked under Draco's thin body. He tried to support his weight on the railing, but he just wasn't that coordinated! The castle looked enormous and intimidating from outside, but within it was rather small. If it wasn't for the false doors, trap hatches, and staircases that never ended, it would be quite easy to find your way around. Draco's foot touched on the floor below, and he scampered behind a nearby armoire. Footsteps echoed off the walls. Draco peered around the bend to see his father speaking to another man in an amused drawl. Oh, how he despised that drawl. He always had. And now, it was his.

"Don't see what 'e wants with 'er," the man was saying loftily.

"Neither do I. But I don't dare defy another order, as I have already disobeyed my lord. I was disloyal once, and shall never be again," Lucius shuddered. "Unless....other opportunities should arise. Situations change int time, you know." 

"I won't be doin' anything that's not what 'e wants me too," said the man. 

"I hardly think that's a matter of importance now. We have to fetch the mudblood. Come," sniffed Lucius.

The man grunted in reply and both turned around, heading for the stairs. Draco crept out from his concealed spot, trailing his father by scarcely an inch. The two wands were tucked deep in his cloak's back pocket. Draco grimaced, he'd have to be awfully slick to pull this off without being notice. 

It's for Hermione, he thought dully, you have to...

He made a brief snatch for the wand, missing by a mile. Lucius continued walking. For once, Draco was glad to be so thin and light. It made this far easier then it might have been, had he been fat and slow. He wondered why he was thinking such pointless things.

Draco breathed deeply. He had to get both wands, because that was twice the power. With two, he stood a chance of standing up to his father when he felt the audible tug on his cloak. Draco was sure he'd feel it, because it was near impossible to reach the bottom of a cloak's back pocket without having the one who sports the cloak realizing it. Draco suspected that cloak's were made that way just for that reason. Oh well, it didn't matter now. He made another jab at the pocket, but brought his hand up empty.

"Three times is charm," he muttered very softly. His hand plunged in again, almost up to his elbow. He brushed what felt like a tuft of feather or fur, as Lucius took a large step forward, Draco stumbled, almost crashing into his father's back. He could feel his clothes on his body, sticky with sweat. 

Draco cracked his knuckles and strode right up to his father's back, getting ready to get the wands once and for all. And if not, he'd die fighting.

Draco reached down up to his shoulder, and felt his fingers clamp tightly on two wands. He pulled them out, a silent grin on his face, one wand clutched in each hand.

"Oh, I forgot something," Lucius said suddenly, whirling around.

He gaped at Draco, who looked nervously back before pointing at him with both wands at once.

  
  


"I swear he's changed Ron," Hermione insisted.

"Malfoy will never change. He's a miserable bastard, and he's going to stay like that forever. Hate to burst your bubble," said Ron angrily.

"It's not his fault..."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Why do you care so much? He doesn't have any feelings for what happens to either of us. He only cares about himself! You may not like it Hermione, but you have to face facts."

"You're so, so wrong," Hermione whispered softly.

"And how would you know? Has he ever once showed that he cared about us in the least, without later taking it back? Every time he does something that you think is all lovely and sweet, we turn around and he's replaced it with something horrible!" 

"Not every time," said Hermione shakily.

"Alright then, when? Because I don't recall it."

Hermione twisted a wisp of hair about her finger and then said sullenly, "I can't say. Not because I don't know, but because I just don't care to tell you."

"Because there hasn't been a single time!" Ron shouted.

"Stop being such a jerk, Ron. A silly grudge isn't worth it. It's _your_ turn to face facts. Draco isn't all bad, just like you and I aren't all good."

Ron clenched his hands into fists as if he was going to hit something with all his strength. Then he blinked once, and began to cry. 

Hermione wanted nothing more then to comfort him, but she knew he was out of her reach, both in touch and in reach. It was horrible. Worse then the dementors, worse then being locked up...Because Ron never cried, even when things looked their most hopeless. And watching him break down pulled her apart and tore any hope she still had in her.

"Don't cry, Ron. Whatever you do, just don't do that!" Hermione pleaded.

"And why can't I?" said Ron quietly. "I don't know why I'm here. I'm trapped all alone. And I'm going to die that way, never saying..." he broke off and wiped his eyes frantically. "I'm such a bloody wimp," he said sullenly.

Hermione gave him a weak, strained smile. "There's nothing wimpy about crying. I think you're brave."

"Real brave," said Ron sarcastically. "Sorry I was being so stupid. I'm just not myself right now. I was afraid that I might..." he shrugged, "die all alone."

"How could you when I'm here?" Hermione said softly. 

Ron grinned at her and said cockily, "Maybe it's a good thing this barrier's here, after all."

  
  


"Give back the wands, Draco," said Lucius swiftly.

"No, you stay away from me...I've had enough from you," Draco said nervously. "Leave me alone, I don't want anything to do with this..."

"You'll just get in above your head. And you'll drown. Give me back the wands."

Draco backed up, "No."

"Don't make me harm my own son," Lucius said coldly.

"I'm willing to take that risk," replied Draco.

"That is a very stupid choice on your behalf."

"Don't you call me stupid! Unless it's stupid that I'm not throwing away my life like you have. Or maybe it's stupid that I don't hate like you do. Maybe I'm not the one who's stupid! Maybe it's you." He sneered at his father.

Lucius drew out his wand. Draco felt his breath coming in gasps. Sure, the taunts were all well enough but was he really willing to die for this? He knew his father would have no trouble hurting him, even killing him.

"It's worth it," he said aloud. "Care for a duel, father?"

"I'm not playing with you, Draco. Give me the bloody wands!"

"Don't you speak English? I'm not giving them to you. I took them fair and square," Draco twirled one between his fingers and pointed at his father. Suddenly, the other man spoke up in a deep, raspy voice.

"Your boy needs to learn a lesson, Lucius."

Lucius simpered. "My sentiments exactly." He pointed his wand at Draco who pointed right back. _"Crucio!"_

  
  


"What's that?" said Hermione, feeling a sharp prick inside of her, as if she'd swallowed a pin. She tingled all over, but not a pleasant tingle. It was eerie, almost painful...and yet not. "Do you feel anything, Ron?"

"I feel lots of things. I'm freaked out, I'm in quite a bit of pain..."

"Tingly. Do you feel tingly?"

Ron tilted his head to the side in mock question, "Do you want me to feel...tingly?"

"Shut up, I mean it."

"No. Why would I?"

Hermione sighed. "I really wish that I'd stop seeing and feeling all sorts of things no one else can see or feel. I'm probably going mad."

"Er..." said Ron uncertainly. "No...of course not."

Hermione reached out to punch him but drew back quickly. Draco had better hurry back...she felt a stabbing pain in her stomach and doubled over. And just as suddenly as it began, a moment later it faded without a trace. She had to get out of here. Something was wrong.

  
  


It was pain beyond all pain. So many times had he watched his father cursing people. And he'd laughed, jeered, even grinned...

He was _such_ a jerk!

All he wanted was for the pain to end. He felt his grip loosening as he sank to the ground, his body twitching uncontrollably. And he was helpless against it. There was no way to stop the agony shooting throughout him. 

"If you want me to stop, just let go of those wands," Lucius floaty voice said over Draco's thoughts.

"NEVER!" Draco gasped back. His body stopped twitching and Lucius walked towards him. Draco fumbled for a moment and then shouted, "_Expeliarmus!"_ feebly pointing at his father. The wand wavered in his grip and then slid to the ground. Draco scrambled madly for it, as his father dove down to the ground and reached as well. 

"You're both too slow."

Draco looked up and saw Hermione standing there, the wand clasped in one hand. "Looks like you needed some help, after all."

"I could have gotten it without any help," Draco replied sulkily.

Lucius stood up hastily, "Clever trick, but it won't work for long. You're as good as dead. You, and that speccy redheaded boy. Enjoy the taste of victory for a moment, because very soon it will turn sour. When you least expect it..."

He waved a hand and faded into thin air. 

  
  


A/N: Ok....R/H people please don't stop reading after this part because nothing's final until the very end. 


	6. Without Rain: (part 06)

A/N: AGAIN, READ THIS! Angst alert. And I mean a lot ^_^ This is actually my favorite part yet, and it was the most interesting to write. 

And I'm so glad you all liked the last part, and so many people reviewed. Er...okay, then, umm...yeah. Again, _please_ review it if you want more, I'm updating this because 50 people have read and I have _two_ reviews. That's really depressing for me. I won't write it if no one tells me if they like it or not. I won't say anything else...and I have an English essay on the Odyssey to write. *sigh* 

Again, thanks for all the great feedback, and just FYI, it's pretty much tied up between Draco and Ron as of now. I think Draco has a slight lead, but hey, you never know. As a side note, I am seeing what you guys want so continue voting, but really, it's Hermione's choice in the end, so nothing's definite no matter _what_ the votes are. Next part won't be up for at least a week because I'm away for the weekend. Anyway, that was a long author's note...

Anyone know how to save an image on Adobe Photoshop as GIF or JPG? Could you email me if you do? Ok, I'm seriously being quiet...

  
  
  
  


"We have to get out of here. And fast," Draco said in a breathy voice.

"Are you alright? You were in pain, weren't you?" Hermione said tightly.

Draco suddenly felt very tired. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. It's just a little unforgivable curse. I'm over it. Though I still can't get over the pain," he looked at her, "I've seen so many people suffer through that and I never blinked an eye."

Hermione waved her hand to push away his disturbing words. "You're different now. C'mon let's go."

"Hermione, you can't forget the way I was. I don't know if anyone can really change," said Draco firmly.

Hermione frowned. "I'm not listening," she said flatly. "We're going to get Ron."

They sprinted up the steps and opened the door.

"About time," Ron mumbled.

"Listen, Weasley we're saving your bum so you should be a bit more grateful," said Draco savagely.

"For what?" Ron spat, "You were really slow at saving me. I could have died ten times over by now, and at two different places."

"At least be a bit more thankful towards Hermione. I would've been all too happy to let you stay here and rot."

"I almost did. What, did your father actually get angry at you? Did he hurt you?" Ron said lightly.

Draco grimaced, "Don't talk about my father..."

"Oh, come off it. It's not like he cares about you."

"Fuck you, Weasley."

"Why you..." began Ron.

"Stop it," Hermione whispered icily. "Don't you two get it? Put this behind you, because we're talking about our lives, now. Not some childish rivalry. So shut up."

"He doesn't _care_ what happens to me," said Ron softly.

"Of course I don't!" Draco snapped.

"It took him an hour just to reach me. There's some ulterior motive for him, Hermione. He's not doing this for himself..."

"OF COURSE NOT!" Draco screamed. "Do you really want to know why it took me so long to find you? Well, my father put me under the crutacius curse once, and then...wait, let me think...what happened the other time? Oh right, I WAS SNOGGING HERMIONE!"

Ron gaped at him in utter disbelief, "What?"

Hermione choked, "Draco..."

"What did you say?" Ron said faintly.

Draco smirked, "You heard me."

Ron looked at Hermione, "You didn't."

Hermione looked at the floor, her face burning. Ron bit his lip and said sullenly, "You did. Let's get out of here." Draco pointed a wand at Ron and the air around him turned a misty red before becoming clear again. They all trudged out the door.

  
  


Hermione felt wretched. Draco kept throwing her sidelong looks, and Ron kept glaring at her and then staring fixedly on the floor.

"We have to get outside," said Draco.

"Just use the book now, Draco," replied Hermione, reaching into her robe. "Oh no..." she whispered meekly. 

"What?" said Draco.

"It's not here," Hermione choked out. "It's gone."

"You're joking," he gasped.

"Twit, of course I'm not joking!" Hermione took off her robe and shook it out. "Nothing." She draped it loosely about her shoulders and let out a dry sob. "We're stuck here forever..."

"Hermione, I really doubt that," said Draco. "Did you drop the book somewhere?"

"No, no, I swear I didn't!" said Hermione defensively.

Draco sighed, "I'm not accusing you of anything, I just want to know."

"No, I never dropped that book. It was in my robe the entire time, and I never once...once.." Hermione drifted off, a glazed expression on her face. "Oh no..."

"What?" snapped Ron, speaking for the first time.

"Your father..." she said weakly to Draco. "I had it just a little while ago...but then..."

"When we were downstairs..." Draco said, completing her thoughts.

"What, were you snogging all around there as well?" Ron cut in spitefully.

Hermione glared at him, "Just drop it," she said menacingly. She turned to Draco and said more quietly, "Yes, when I came down. I leaned down to get the book, and it must have slipped out a bit and he snatched it up. He seemed awfully confident, didn't he? Well then, that must've been why." Hermione felt her eyes tearing again. She'd never been one to cry, yet in these last hours she'd shed more tears then in her entire life. Had it only been hours? No, it was far longer that they'd been there. But then, she didn't feel tired in the least. She sighed inwardly, when you're asleep, of course you're not tired. 

"Guess our priorities are different now. We have to get that book back," said Draco.

"But how? I mean, we'll be killed if we so much as come near your father..." 

Draco shrugged, running a hand through his hair. "Then let's live dangerously."

Hermione frowned, "I don't really want to..."

"Listen Hermione, do you want to get out of here?"

"Yes, of course," said Hermione, pouting.

Draco grinned, "Then are you in, or are you out?"

Hermione bit her lip and then gave him a wicked smile, "In. In all the way. What else do I have to lose?"

Ron turned to her, "Absolutely nothing," he said softly, "That you haven't already lost. That includes your mind, your sense and my friendship." He turned to Draco and said, "By the way, I'm in. In all the way."

  
  


Hermione's eyes fluttered open. How long had she been asleep for, and more so, how could she have gone to sleep? Draco was next to her breathing lightly, and Ron was tracing circles in the dust. Hermione yawned.

"It must be morning by now. It's still dark out..." she sighed and turned the other way. Draco stirred and blinked.

"Must've dozed off," he mumbled.

"Be quiet, I'm thinking," said Hermione, realizing that she actually had a lot to think about. She had control now, and she had to use it. "Draco, I've been meaning to ask you about that water all around here. It hasn't been raining much..."

"Oh, it never rains here," he said promptly.

Hermione shook her head, "But how can anything live and grow without rain?"

"I can grow without rain," said Draco, "But no, you're right, nothing can live."

Hermione didn't bring it up again as she stood up and stretched. She looked down at her lap and saw the book, opened to a fresh page. She let out an ear splitting scream and tossed it across the room. Draco gaped at her.

"Why is _that_ here?" he said, in awe.

"It's not...it shouldn't..." Hermione stammered as Draco ran to pick it up. "No don't..." Hermione began to late. Draco picked up the book and pressed a single finger to the sun on the cover. The room spun about as if it was on a rotating plate.

"Hook, line, and sinker," said a cold voice. Lucius beamed at his son. "You always _were_ a bit slow, boy. And I'm wasting no more time." He clapped his hands sharply together and two dementors stormed into the room atop the shadowy horses. "You made a mistake by taking this boy to me in the first place," he said, pointing to Ron, "You assumed he was the Potter boy. My lord was angered by this, but seeing as no real harm was done you may have a reward after all." Lucius smirked at Ron, "His soul."

"NO!" gasped Hermione.

Draco stepped forward, "What did you do with the book?"

Lucius raised an eyebrow, "Oh, that. I destroyed it."

"You didn't..." breathed Draco, taking unsteady steps backward.

"And why not? I had no further use for it."

Draco shook his head, "You wouldn't have the guts," he said disbelievingly. "Fight your own battle for once. I'll take you on right now. We'll have a proper duel." He nodded towards Ron who was still moving his finger about in wide circles, and Hermione who was shaking. "Winner gets to live, and choose _their_ fates,"

"I take my orders from those higher then you. My lord wants that boy dead, and that mudblood put into a more _proper_ position."

Draco took out a wand, and tossed the other towards Ron. It rolled to a stop at his feet. "Don't make me do it," he said to his father, "You can threaten me, or Weasley over there, but you stay the hell away from Hermione, because she'll never have anything to do with you. Not for all the world."

Lucius made a sweep with his hand and Ron began to gasp. He doubled over, his breath pouring from his mouth as it if was very cold and his words were lingering in the air. But the puffs of air coming from his lips were of a fluid silver. He began to cough violently.

"STOP IT!" shouted Hermione, racing over to him. The creatures that the dementors rode were clawing at the ground, and their eyes had turned a blinding white. Suddenly, they resumed the fiery red of before, as Lucius twirled his hand again. Ron clutched at his throat, heaving in great breaths.

"You don't like that, do you?" Lucius asked Hermione. "If that happened again, I might not stop it. He might just lay there...dead. Worse then dead."

Hermione knew that it was no simple spell that was doing this to Ron. She knew it was beyond her control. And it made her feel helpless. She had a wand, but she could do nothing. "Please don't..." she begged.

"It's not me who did that. The raefors were at fault for that little show," he gestured to the horses, who were still once again. "Of course, they take their lead from me."

"What were they doing?" Hermione said frantically.

"You'll learn all about that at another time. After you've decided to join us."

Hermione felt her head spinning, "Join you?" she echoed faintly.

"It's a fair trade. You hand yourself over to the Dark Side, a life of luxury and power...and in return, the boy won't lose his soul. I'll even send him back to reality."

"Don't do it," Ron whispered, his voice thick and slurred. The raefors began to paw the ground, their claws putting thin scratches in the wood. A thin mist of silver shot from Ron's mouth and he leaned back heavily against the wall.

"STOP!" Hermione gasped out, gripping Ron's hand in hers. "I'll never join you. Never. What would you want with a...what's that you all call me again...mudblood, is it?"

Lucius glared maliciously at her, "My lord recognizes _brilliance_ when he sees it. In you, he can taste it. You have connections to that which has slipped from his grip before..."

"Leave Harry out of this," Hermione said coolly.

"That's it. The boy's gone," scoffed Lucius, making a full wave in the air. The raefors began to trill their voices across the room, high, resounding sounds that made your skin prickle and tingle with their height. Ron slumped to the floor, his mouth open, the same silvern air coming from his lips. Hermione let out a gasp of horror and then said defiantly, "I'll do it."

"No!" said Draco protectively.

"Just let Ron alone," said Hermione, ignoring Draco's voice.

Lucius grinned slyly at her, and Ron's eyes flickered open. He squinted at the blurred scene in front of him and said weakly, "Hermione...a promise is a...promise."

Hermione's eyes widened, "You knew! You knew that this was going to happen. That's why you made me swear not to join the Dark Side in the first place."

Ron nodded with the last of his will and closed his eyes again.

Hermione whirled on Lucius, "He's going to die!" she gasped, "You swore..."

"He's alive, but barely...hand yourself over and he'll live."

"I...I...I just don't know," Hermione cried, throwing her hands into the air in despair. 

"Time is of essence, so make the decision quickly," said Lucius, advancing towards Ron.

"Get away..." said Hermione wearily. 

A jet of light shot from Draco's wand, hitting his father square in the stomach. Lucius doubled over and backed up, wheezing. For a split second, Hermione felt a soft mattress beneath her, and could hear the subtle tapping of rain. She reached forward to pull the blankets over her head, and her finger slipped right through them. The dark room once again surrounded her. So many times had her dreams seemed out of reach, and now, all that she wanted was reality...and it was so close...

"I won't join you," she said.

Lucius nodded placidly, once more waving his hand, and Ron turned a deadly white. His skin became so pale that Hermione thought she'd gone blind. The raefors both turned entirely white for a moment, and then turned back into their usual shadowed black. They sauntered from the room, the dementors atop, stroking them with rotting fingers. Draco shook his head disbelievingly and walked over to Ron, kneeling down.

"You really did it," he said to his father.

"I had to, she doubted me," said Lucius nodding to Hermione. Ron's pajamas had turned grey, and even his red hair had the color sucked from it. Hermione doubled over and let out a gasp, then collapsed next to him, openly sobbing. 

"I killed him," she whispered, still clasping his hand in hers, "He's gone all cold on me...why did he make me promise that? Why did I listen to him?" 

Draco gulped, "It wasn't your fault."

"It was so! I'm horrible and selfish and I don't deserve to live," Hermione sobbed, hot tears streaking her face. She turned around and looked at Lucius, "Bring those creatures back! Let them take me to! I don't want to live anymore... Take my soul as well...then it'll be with Ron's at least..." 

"Why are you doing this? All you ever wanted in your life was some power, and now you've got it. You wanted Potter here, you wanted him dead. Do you think I would have given a damn if you killed Potter before now? If you killed Weasley before now? Even if you killed them _now_?" said Draco, "No. But you have nothing to gain from killing him," he gestured to Ron, "You just did it to prove your power. And now...now you've killed part of her," he pointed to Hermione, "And in that, you've killed part of me. And I can't let that happen." He got up and walked towards his father. "If I recall correctly you don't have a wand..." 

"Get away from me, boy," said Lucius in disgust. "I'll get the Potter boy for my Lord yet, and when I do I'll be honored beyond my wildest dreams..."

"Funny, I always knew I had no feelings in me, nothing but hate and scorn. But I have something else now, and it will be your downfall." Draco took another step forward. "And you leave me no choice..." 

Raising his wand, Draco dropped to the floor, grabbed Hermione by the hand and shouted _"Abeo!"_

There was a shower of blue sparks and a sizzling sound, and Lucius was left with nothing but Ron's drained body, and the wand.

  
  


There was the sound of dripping water from above, and Hermione found herself clutching nothing but air. Lucius' wand was falling from her pocket. With one swift movement, Hermione grasped it between her hands and snapped it in two.

"Why'd you do that?" said Draco in an aggravated voice. "Now we only have one wand between...damn, my father has a wand as well now."

"I don't want anything to do with your father!" Hermione gasped out between sobs.

"Hermione, I'm really sorry about Weasley..." Draco started, trying to lift her to her feet.

"Stay away from me, I've had enough Malfoy to last me forever," Hermione said, wrenching herself away.

"I can't control what my father does," Draco growled. "We have to get out of here. And fast. Do you want Weasley to have died for nothing?" 

He knew immediately that it was the wrong thing to say. 

"Just shut the hell up," she whispered, "And stay away from me."

Draco sighed, "No. I've made enough mistakes to last me a lifetime, and I'm not making another. Don't make me carry you, it'll only slow us down." He held out his hand, and Hermione pulled herself up. "We'll try and get outside. I expect there might be some way to get back from there..."

Hermione nodded weakly, silent tears still rolling down her face. "I swear that I will never sleep again after this."

"You'll be awfully tired, and y'know your grades might drop," he said, giving a fake shudder, "Horrible thought."

Hermione didn't smile, only because it seemed out of place. Draco pushed back his bangs and said, "He's not really dead, Hermione. He just...doesn't have a soul..."

"That's worse," said Hermione hoarsely. 

"No, it's not," said Draco thoughtfully.

"Don't you tell me..." Hermione began, her voice suddenly strong.

"I don't mean it that way," snapped Draco, "I was just thinking...I reckon that when you lose something it has to go somewhere...I mean, nothing just disappears."

Hermione nodded.

"So then what about souls? Is Weasley just going to get up in a moment and start wandering about without actually thinking or feeling anything?"

"Don't even say that," sniffed Hermione. 

"Hermione, he's just a shell now, and I mean to say, shouldn't we do something about it? "

"You'd like that wouldn't you? Then he'd really be dead," said Hermione, "And stop talking about this-this rubbish. Ron's gone and it's my fault and I'll have to live with that for the rest of my life. If I feel like _having_ a rest of my life. After this, I really don't know."

Draco bit his lip, "Don't even say that."

"I don't say anything that I don't mean. God, I never even told him...I was always all horrible, quarreling and scolding him...and now..." she broke off, choking back more tears.

"We have to go," said Draco, urging her forward. "We don't have much time."

"That was a clever spell," said Hermione absently.

Draco blinked his eyes, "Yes, it was," he said encouragingly.

"Really, we could just do that whenever we got into a spot of trouble."

"Uhh...that wouldn't be quite practical, Hermione," said Draco.

"Where are we?"

Hermione glanced around for the first time. She saw bleak, stone walls, covered in decaying moss and dirt. There were visible pipes all over the ceiling, and the ground was made of clay and coated in a thin layer of grime. 

"In the dungeons," replied Draco, as if every well built home had dungeons beneath it. "There might be a way out from down here."

"And what are we supposed to do when we get out?" said Hermione faintly, "Your father will come out and we'll be killed anyway. Let's just speed up the process..." she made a snatch for Draco's wand, and then withdrew her hand. "That's Ron's..." she whispered, "Give it here." Draco looked into her eyes, seeing his reflection dancing in them. His eyes were so damn vacant and grey and bleak and...

He thrust the wand into her hands. "Do it to me as well. I'm as good as dead when my father get's through with me."

"I won't do anything with Ron's wand. I'm keeping it forever," said Hermione, running her fingers through the sheer feathers that sprouted from its top. 

"We might need to use it if we get in trouble, y'know," sighed Draco.

"Only if we have to. Promise me you'll do your best to make sure nothing happens to it?" said Hermione, still fingering the wand.

"I promise. Geez, Hermione, you really...I mean...you did, didn't you?"

Hermione pocketed the wand with utmost care and said, "Did what?"

"It's so obvious! Why didn't I see it before?" said Draco, quickening his pace.

"See what?" said Hermione, almost running to keep up with him.

"If you don't know, I won't tell you," snapped Draco. 

"Stop being a jerk, Draco. I don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about, and I really don't care either."

"I'm sure you don't," he said angrily.

Hermione rubbed her eyes to fight back tears, "Try to be nice just this once, okay? I just lost the best friend I ever had! I know you couldn't relate to losing someone you cared about, but stretch your imagination really far and just try it."

Draco glared at her, "Nice Hermione, real nice," he said viciously.

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, just walking along the dank corridors of the basement. Hermione couldn't keep track of where they were coming from or where they were going, but Draco seemed to know his way around with his eyes shut.

"We'll be outside soon," said Draco monotonously. 

Hermione sighed deeply. In the short time that she'd been inside she'd almost forgotten what outside was. It seemed like some half-formed thought, always on the tip of one's tongue but never said. 

Draco stopped short at a blank looking wall. There were shimmering green gems, with a single blood red one embedded in the stone to look like a coiled S. Draco pushed Hermione back with one hand, and then took a deep breath. 

"I'm not sure what to do..." he said softly, pursing his lips in thought.

Hermione didn't answer, as she was gazing intently at the stones. There was something about that shape...those colors...

"Tap it or something," said Hermione.

"There's all sorts of traps around here. Nothing escapes Voldemort's eye," replied Draco, making Hermione tremble from hearing the name. She mentally scolded herself, swearing never to be afraid of him again. He was just another wizard...no matter how much power he had, or how many lives he'd ended.

Draco shook his head, pushing Hermione back a bit farther. "Give me the wand," he said cautiously. Hermione sighed, and handed it to him. Draco poised himself in the position to sprint away in case of trouble, and tapped the shape three times. The coil glowed faintly, and then twisted tightly together. Hermione let out a squeak as the top part rose from the wall. She choked on her voice. A snake.

The snake glared at them with its single red eye, flicking out a shimmery red tongue and letting low a venomous hiss. "_You want to passss and see outside where night and day combine..._" it whispered in a soft, menacing tone. It wasn't a question, but Draco nodded yes. The snake gave a flickering smirk. "_I cannot see your faces but no one's ever called me blind_," it murmured.

"Huh?" said Draco mildly.

"_If you want to passs, passs you may, but if not, forever shall you stay_," it said cryptically, "_If you must leave, then hurry through, but take heed of my wordsss true. Those that flow with red may go, and take life asss it comes. Yet those of brown walk death around, and from life will you run._"

Hermione was lost in thought and kept mumbling obscure things like, "What can see? Red, red, red..."

Draco was just lost. The snake watched the two with faint amusement, occasionally hissing some mysterious riddle that only added to the confusion. "Shall we go through?" said Draco suddenly.

Hermione shook her head, "No, it might be dangerous."

"_Danger isss as it'ss defined, so come and taste the grasss. A sea unknown lurks far away and journeysss to your past._"

"Why must you speak in riddles?" scolded Hermione.

"_I wasss made with life so great, and made only to rhyme. If you decipher what I say you'll_ _know what isss to lie_."

Hermione flushed indignantly, "Is that so? Well, _I_ will decipher what you're saying."

"_None have yet, and for that they're gone, they did not heed my wordsss for long. So if you think you know what'sss what, then come and break from your own rut. But far I doubt that you can see, the real reason that I'm me, for to reject what'sss not pure, the filthy, lost and dirty cur_," muttered the snake cynically, the light catching on its eye.

"You're really nasty," said Draco irritably.

"Shh...shut up, Draco, I think I'm getting something," said Hermione.

"_For those who intrude without invite, they'll pay, no doubt, they'll die of fright But if you were born with veins of blood, that are clogged with red and not with mud, then you may come and pass with ease, I'll only speak to then appeassse._" 

Hermione nodded slowly, "Well then, go ahead Draco. I'll find some way out...some day. Maybe I'll just stay here awhile, it's not really all...that...horrible..." whispered Hermione, her voice soft but still forceful.

Draco looked at her in question.

"Well it's really quite obvious, isn't it? Red not brown, pure not dirty, clean not muddy..." Draco still looked confused. "Oh Draco, only purebloods can pass through alive! And I'm not one, damn it!" Hermione gasped out, kicking the wall.

The snake glared maliciously at her, "_You are bright, for one unpure, but you'll not passss, of thisss I'm sure._" The snake's eye swivelled to Hermione, and then it coiled itself up into a knot. The snake let out a last hiss, and once more imbedded itself in the wall, looking like no more then a bunch of glittering stones. Hermione sighed and sat down.

"Well, I'll see you," she muttered to Draco.

He threw her a half-hearted grin, "Right, I'm just going to leave you here."

"Don't you see? There's no way for me to get out! You might as well save yourself, and then maybe you can somehow find another route inside and then..." Hermione broke off, "Oh, I wish...I wish..."

"Don't worry, we'll get out."

Hermione stared wistfully at the floor, "I wish Ron was here. He always knew what to do."

Draco bit his lip, knowing that it would upset Hermione greatly if he suddenly began to scream, especially about Ron. "Let's concentrate on getting out of here," he said steadily.

"I can't get out of here," Hermione insisted. "Unless I'm a pureblood." She took out the wand and tapped the snake again. It remained still. She handed the wand to Draco.

He shrugged and tapped the snake as well. Suddenly, it sprang to life again, gave him a twisted, crooked grin and slithered to the floor. Hermione let out a shriek. The wall gave way, the bricks all crumbling before their eyes. Draco looked outside, seeing the watery ground and the thickets of trees. He sighed, feeling the wind ruffling his hair. 

"_Hold one hand out so I may know, who shall stay and who shall go_," hissed the snake, arching its body.

"Give me your hand," said Draco.

Hermione held out one of her hands, trembling. Draco gently slid his hand over hers, intertwining their fingers. "Now go."

"What?"

"_I'm_ a pureblood, even though you're not. C'mon," said Draco, tugging on her hand.

"Draco, don't risk it. Why don't you just go and..."

"No." And he pulled at her with all the force he could muster. Hermione felt her breath seize up as she stepped through to the outside, and then it flowed back through her. Draco also gasped for breath for a moment, then breathed easily again. They stepped outside into the cool night air, filling their lungs with the refreshing air. 

"If I'd gone through alone...I wouldn't have been able to catch my breath," said Hermione with an involuntary shudder.

"I wouldn't have let you go through alone, so you really never needed to worry about that," replied Draco.

Hermione smiled weakly at him, and then stepped back, realizing that she was holding his hand so tightly that it was completely white around the edges. She looked down and saw that the entire area around her had turned a horrible shade of red. Draco glanced down and saw that he too was standing on the water, and thin lines were filtering from his feet. They both shook their heads simultaneously. 

"Weird," said Hermione.

"Blimey..." said Draco, lifting one foot and then the other.

"So what now?"

Draco shrugged, "I guess we'll head back where we came from. Maybe we can get back from there."

"Alright, I can't wait to get back," said Hermione happily. 

Draco sighed, feeling both depressed and angry at once, "I don't know if I'm looking forward to it," he muttered, "I don't have anything to go back to."

Hermione felt tears rolling down her cheeks. Why was she crying now? So suddenly? She felt a burning to have Ron back, "Life's a charade. And I hate it so much at times," she whispered passionately. Draco looked at her, his eyes tinted with curiosity and suspicion

"Er...Hermione? Why the _very_ sudden, _very_ extreme mood swings?"

Hermione glared up at him, "I don't know," she snapped, feeling annoyed.

Draco sniggered absently, and Hermione continued to pout. It was as if her emotions would roll right through her and then flow right out. 

"We have to get out of here," said Draco softly. He felt scornful somehow, and he didn't know why. The thought briefly entered his mind that perhaps his old self was taking over again, and he was going to feel nothing but scorn, spite, and hate forevermore. But then moments later he felt quite happy, and the thought was washed from his mind, leaving him not only carefree, but completely oblivious to danger and fear.


	7. Without Rain: (part 07)

A/N: Okay, that was quite a strong reaction about Ron, I apologize. Just keep reading, I won't say any more then that. And _please_ review it, because not many reviewed the last part yet again and it really discourages me. And for those of you who have been, thanks, the more reviews the faster I get it up...

Okay, I have nothing more to say, I have too much homework and I have to go decorate for Halloween. This is going to be ten parts in total by the way! Enjoy ^_^ 

  
  


Hermione wiped her forehead, feeling extremely...scared. She could be in mortal peril, then at least she knew what was happening. She could hurt herself, then she could feel the pain. Hell, she could see her best friend have his soul sucked away, then she could at least cry and mourn and feel wretched about it! But to have no control over her emotions...

Draco was faring little better. He kept getting angry and then happy and then sad...but nothing of more depth then that. As they edged farther from the castle (a task in itself as every once in while Draco would sink up to his neck in water), Hermione felt control seeping back into her, mostly regret, pain, loss, and sadness. Still, being able to feel what she actually felt was a relief.

"This is pointless," said Hermione suddenly. "There's only one way to get out of here that might even conceivably work, and it probably wouldn't work anyway."

"What's that?" said Draco.

"I have to get scared. Not just scared...petrified beyond belief...I have to have such strong feelings, that I just wouldn't be capable of them in a dream."

"What about Weasley?"

"That doesn't work," said Hermione coldly, "Because I know he's gone in my mind, but my heart's still telling me he's alive. It's surreal, and therefore I'm not yet grieving, only feeling sad."

Draco sighed, "I'd hate to see you when you're grieving."

"Don't make light of this," whispered Hermione, "I may not believe it but I still know it's true."

"So what do you want to do? Go back there and go up to Voldemort?" scoffed Draco, "'Scuse me but I need to be scared a lot...could you just use Avada Kedavra on me if it's not to much trouble...or maybe you'd just like to put me under the Crustacius curse so that I'm in so much pain that I wake up..."

"Very funny," said Hermione sardonically. "Hilarious, really."

Draco's smirk faded and he plastered on a sullen grimace, "We need to talk."

Hermione sighed, "I know..."

"I...well, I mean...about what happened..." Draco took a deep breath, and chastised himself, "I think it was a mistake. An impulse. Whatever you want to call it," he said numbly. But Hermione couldn't help but notice that his words didn't seem to meet his eyes. 

She knew she should have felt relief maybe, or anger, or just surprise...but not disappointment. Hermione pursed her lips, trying to push it back inside her, convincing herself that it was nothing more then annoyance. Yes, that was it...

"Oh," she said softly. Brilliant, she thought to herself, really excellent response...

Draco swallowed nervously, his pale face uncomfortable and trying. Hermione seemed satisfied, so leave well enough alone...

For now. He could leave it for now.

"Draco, what's that?" Hermione said suddenly, pointing at back towards the castle. Draco glanced quickly where she was pointing.

"Raefors and dementors," he said absently, almost casually. Hermione strained her eyes, and suddenly she could see as if a magnifying lense was across her face. Two dementors poised atop raefors who looked as if they were grazing in the field.

"What's the point of the raefors?"

Draco shrugged, "See those claws, and the shadowy bodies? Dementors can enter your dreams, but no dream can duplicate their taking of your soul and the way they suck away your happiness. But the raefors can. They use those claws to grasp your dreams and trap you in your sleep, and then they can slink through your mind because they're made of shadow." He said all of this is as if it was a plain fact of life that Hermione should have known.

"That's horrible...preying on people when they're asleep! No one deserves that," said Hermione angrily.

"Yeah, nasty things, those raefors are," said Draco.

Hermione leaned forward a bit, "What are they doing? Do they eat and drink?"

Draco gave a hollow laugh, "I except so. Just like dementors do. They drink fear and feed on sadness."

"They look as if they're eating grass, or drinking this..." she glanced around her at the now sparse silvern puddles, "...water."

"We both know that this isn't water," Draco pointed off.

"Well, yes I know that. But it makes me feel better to call it water until I know what it really is," said Hermione hurriedly.

Draco was silent, staring at the raefors. "Hermione..." he breathed, "Look..."

Hermione whirled around and saw the entire ground beneath her turn a blinding white. It was as if she'd been plunged through ice, then fire, then splashed with wind. There was a puff of smoke as the dementors rode away, so many different colors at once. Hermione felt sick just looking at it, and more then that she felt great anger, extreme jealousy (though she didn't know what of), a tinge of fear and sadness, admiration for so many others and a wanting so intense that it filled her. Each emotion rolled through her like a wave breaking on the sand, and she was left drained, listening to the silence of the night.

"Hermione!" said Draco's voice over her, sounding frantic. "Snap out of it!"

Hermione rubbed her head, "What happened?" she asked groggily.

"You just started being all weird, and you looked furious and then really sad and then all bloody scared and..." Draco breathed in, "Damn it, Hermione, you scared the hell out of me!"

Hermione winced, realizing that she was kneeling on the ground, "I feel nauseous." 

Draco knelt down next to her, "Don't do that crap, you really scared me," he said with a softened look.

"I didn't mean to," said Hermione reproachfully, "it just sort of...happened."

"What I want to know is _what_ happened," muttered Draco. 

"I'm tired," said Hermione distractedly.

"How?"

Hermione looked at him, "I don't know. Oh," she said, her eyes widening, "I feel more awake now."

"This is just getting weird," said Draco. 

"And I just don't get it," finished Hermione dejectedly, as she was not used to not getting things. It made her feel empty and useless. She looked right at Draco, and then tilted her head to the side, looking past him. "What's that?" she said curiously, craning her neck for a better look. Draco turned around to see bubbles coming from the water where the dementors had been. And for some reason, he had to get closer. He took off.

"Don't go away," he mumbled, sprinting along the grass and water, his legs pumping, not knowing if he was talking to Hermione or to the bubbles that were quickly popping...No, not popping, just sinking beneath the surface.

Draco sunk onto his knees and dipped his hand into the liquid. It burned. It burned him so badly that he couldn't scream or cry or do anything but sit there, his skin peeling in the intense pain, and stare. Biting his lip, he wrenched his hand out. It wasn't wet. And he remembered...

"Hermione, come here," he said tersely. 

Hermione walked over cautiously, as if Draco would suddenly sprout fangs and declare himself a vampire. She chuckled at the thought. "Yeah?"

Draco brought his hand from beneath his robes and showed it to her. Hermione winced, "You got burned," she said.

"Sharp, Hermione. So sharp I'm surprised you didn't cut yourself," Draco replied sarcastically. "I got burned by water."

"This...stuff...burned you? But I touched it before and I didn't get burned. Did you...did you get wet?"

Draco shook his head, "No."

Hermione took his hand and turned it over. She gently ran one finger over the surface. And she dropped it, uttering a low murmur.

"What's this?" she said nervously, "You don't feel...you're not..."

Draco thrust her an irritated glare.

"You don't feel like you," Hermione said dully, looking at him through suspicious and watery eyes.

Draco sneered, "And pray tell, who do I _feel_ like?"

Hermione took a deep breath, "Ron. You feel like Ron."

  
  


"I hate to disappoint you, but Weasley's gone," said Draco coolly, his eyes burning behind their cold, clear exterior.

"Draco, I'm not just saying this, I mean it...you don't feel like you," said Hermione in a breathy voice. Draco looked at her curiously as she edged closer to him, clasping his hand in hers again. "It's like I'm touching him..."

"I'm not," said Draco quietly, "I'm me."

Hermione shook her head, leaning closer to him, but said, "I know..."

And she pressed her lips softly to his. Draco wanted to grab her wrists, he wanted to kiss her back with all his feelings and wanting and force...

But he didn't. He pushed back and broke away. "You're not doing that to me," he said, his voice shaking, "You're doing it for Weasley."

Hermione stared at him, and then broke down sobbing, "I don't know what I'm doing anymore! I don't know, I don't know..."

Draco sighed, "It's okay..."

"It's not okay," whimpered Hermione, "I'm hurting you, I'm hurting myself, everything's just gone all horrible and I don't know what to do or where to go. I've never felt so lost. Lost in my own thoughts!"

"I don't know what to do," said Draco, looking at his hand. It had turned shiny, but not the raw glow of a burn, more pearlescent and glossy. "I wish I knew just what that liquid is," he said, his voice tinged with ill-ease. "Because I don't feel like myself either. I mean, I do, but there's something else in me that I can't place..."

Hermione looked at him with searching eyes, "What?"

"I...I think it's pity," said Draco beseechingly, as if he didn't want to feel it. 

"Oh God..." whispered Hermione sadly, "Why now..."

"I don't like it," said Draco coldly, "It makes me feel sick."

Hermione sighed, "Most people feel pity, Draco. I feel it now."

"For yourself, or for Weasley?"

"For you. I pity you just for that reason. Because you've never before felt it, and that's sad. Everyone should feel pity," said Hermione. She suddenly stopped speaking, and froze. "Let's move," she whispered.

"Move?" asked Draco, never the less still taking up a quick pace in the other direction.

"What's this?" gasped Hermione, stopping in her tracks. There was a thin, translucent, pale blue line, hovering in front of them. It shimmered dully as Hermione turned around and saw that it didn't end everywhere, making a complete circle around the castle, as far as the eye could see. She took out the wand and tapped it. The wand let off a puff of cold, thick smoke, and Hermione let it drop from the ground. It began to tremble as though it were alive, and suddenly a sharp crack split through its center. Sawdust and bits of feather fell onto the ground. Hermione picked it up again, breathing rapidly.

"Told you there was loads of traps," said Draco.

Hermione held up the wand in disbelief, "Oh, it's going to be ever so hard to use now. Just think, that could have been us. That crack could be right down your stomach," she shivered, "And you wouldn't be spilling sawdust..."

Draco grimaced, "Pleasant imagery, Hermione." 

"How are we getting past?" said Hermione, examining the line with her eyes.

"Go under it," suggested Draco.

"No, that won't work, I'm sure it makes a wall beneath it...but over..." She took the wand and with the lightest of touches tapped the air over the line. "Nothing," she said smugly.

"I'm not quite athletic," Draco began, his confident air wavering. 

Hermione rolled her eyes, "From you of all people! You're a wizard, I'm a witch, and we have a wand!"

"Oh, right," said Draco, not blushing but indeed turning a light shade of pink, "Mind, it's probably a very broken wand..."

"It'll have to do," said Hermione with false confidence, rasing an eyebrow.

_"Libero,"_ said Draco unconvincingly, laying just one finger on the wand. Hermione's stomach gave a funny jolt as her feet softly left the ground.

"This is lovely," she said in a croaky voice. "Really, lovely..."

Draco bit his lip. He might have been just a bit nervous, but he had to stay collected. "It's quite a safe spell, there's no harm at all," he said slowly.

Hermione nodded agreeably, her hand clasped over the wand so hard that it hurt. The air seemed to be lightening under her feet, as if it couldn't quite support her weight. "Oh God..no, not now..." mumbled Hermione, clutching the wand even harder. Her foot slipped from the solid feel it had on the air. She felt her breath catch, and her and Draco crashed onto the ground, landing in a heap. 

Draco shook his head, not even having the time to enjoy his complete entanglement in Hermione. "S'pose I didn't say the spell loud enough," he mumbled weakly.

Hermione glanced around. Then she stared. "Oh no..."

"What are those? And what's so 'oh no' about them?" asked Draco skeptically. 

Above them, were about five hundred electric blue pixies, all pulling horrible faces and making twirls in the air. A couple of them swooped down menacingly, as Hermione ducked nervously out of the way. Draco seemed to find the whole thing very amusing.

"It's not funny!" Hermione insisted choppily as she dove to the ground again, avoiding one who kept pulling her hair. "They're really nasty."

"I'm petrified," drawled Draco.

Hermione cocked an eyebrow, "I dealt with about _twenty_ of them a couple of years ago. They wreaked havoc and thrust Neville out the window by his ears!"

Draco grinned broadly, "I would have loved to see that." 

One of the pixies had landed on the ground and was whistling and chirping shrilly. The others were all gathering around it, looking mutinous.

"This is really scary, Hermione. What if I were to step on the lot of them right now?" said Draco, advancing on the pixies.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "You're welcome to try. But it won't do you any good." She shook her finger as one sank its tiny fangs into her. It flew off looking dazed.

"My father's really slipping in the security department," sighed Draco. "Next, there will be some lovely kittens that will claw you to death, or else act upon your allergies..."

"They _did_ manage to knock us out of the air," replied Hermione, her fear slowly ebbing away into frustration. 

"I wasn't prepared or I doubt they could have," said Draco, brushing one out of his hair and looking suddenly furious. "Stop it," he growled, trying to slick his hair back into place, "Slimy little bugger..."

"See? They're really dreadful. Be careful or they just might rip your hair out," Hermione quipped with an air of annoyance. "Honestly, to think you still care about your appearance at a time like this." Her eyes shifted to the crowd of pixies on the ground. For a moment, Hermione debated just grabbing Draco and dragging him away, but that would get them no where. They'd need to do the spell again, and pixies were far faster then people.

"Ouch!" she yelped, as a pixie grabbed her ear. "Get off!"

"Hermione, just flick it away," said Draco, doing just that. The pixie trembled with rage and turned a hot shade of pink. Ten others immediately surrounded it, and Draco was lifted clear off the ground. He swallowed heavily and began to flail about in the air. The pixies felt like fire wherever they touched him, and he could hear their mad giggles and squeaks above all else. Hermione was looking very strange, her face a blend of smugness and terror. Draco didn't see what was so terrifying, except for the fact that they might fly hundreds of feet into the air and then drop him. Wait, he thought sullenly, that would be pretty terrifying...

"Don't struggle, Draco, just give me a moment to..." she broke off as several pixies seized her as well. "Oh, let go of me you horrid little..." Hermione began angrily, kicking her feet. Draco smirked in spite of himself.

In a rush of thought, Hermione realized that the pixies were not just torturing her aimlessly. They seemed to be soaring across the landscape, everything going by beneath in blurs of color and shape. If there wasn't a searing pain in her head, it would have been a wonderful feeling, floating above the entire world with nothing out of reach...

"Do we have a destination?" she heard Draco yell angrily.

Hermione managed to turn her head slightly and look at him. "I think so," she said softly, knowing he couldn't hear her. Her head was pounding so much that she felt as if it might explode at any moment. She saw a few pixies zooming ahead, and scattering over the vast expanse of the grounds, their pointed faces scanning below.

She felt their clawed hands loosen on her hair and skin, the pinches slightly less sharp. One of them trilled a long note and Hermione's stomach leapt into her throat. Everything began to grow bigger as they dropped steadily downwards. "No," breathed Hermione, words utterly failing her. Circling beneath her were the dementors and raefors, all looking up into the black night, awaiting their prey. After all this, were they just going to end up as lost souls, death not even a fit enough toll? Hermione pulled out Ron's wand, searching her mind for a happy memory or thought. 

She tried to think of the Yule Ball, when she'd genuinely felt pretty and popular. And then she thought of Ron, furious that she'd gone with Viktor. She thought of how she felt when she'd been accepted into Hogwarts, and learned that she was a witch! But then, that wasn't happiness, it was more like shock. She winced, and tried to think of how well she'd always done on her exams. But after all the fuss she made, it really didn't make her happy, just...pleased, satisfied perhaps. She just couldn't remember anything...she was already feeling the now familiar way the cold washed over her, like water. She didn't know what to do.

"Draco!" she said, meaning to yell but only slurring her words quietly.

Draco looked at her, his face a deadly white. "Yeah?" he mouthed back.

Hermione held up the wand, "Catch." She gathered all her strength and tossed the wand towards Draco. She could feel her thoughts ebbing away into nothingness. 

Draco made a clumsy dive for the wand, while still being supported by the pixies. They all looked angry and dangerous as they gave him a sharp yank to keep him aloft. Hermione saw Draco pocket the wand and straighten himself in resolve. The pixies continued to lower, until their feet hit the ground.

Hermione collapsed on the spot. She knew why the dementors were affecting her with such force. They showered you with sorrow, and sucked away any joy. And at that moment, she was feeling such sadness that she could swear she'd drown in it. Draco managed to remain standing, but wavered quite a lot.

The pixies all giggled and then flew off, their tiny wings beating all about and lighting the dark sky. Like stars...

"Funny sight," Draco mused, turning to Hermione and kneeling over her. "You alright?"

"No," replied Hermione stiffly, curling herself up more. "And I'm not doing any disappearing act again. I don't care anymore."

Draco sighed, "Me either. What was that again..._expecto patronum?" _He raised the wand and brought it swishing down. Nothing happened. The dementors were slowly crowding about. Draco had a sense of deja-vu. Think, he told himself, think of something happy. He willed himself to search as far back as he could remember, blocking out all else. And then it hit him. 

He didn't need to search far back. Because he had one happy memory now, however short, abrupt or small. Hermione. 

Just Hermione, that she made him act differently. With her, he didn't need to be all horrible, he didn't need to poke fun at everyone different them him, and he didn't need to say loads of crap that he didn't mean. He didn't need to act superior, he didn't need to be hateful and spiteful and cruel...

_"Expecto patronum!"_ Draco screamed, bringing his wand down with all the force he could muster. Vaguely, he saw something vast and silver shoot from the end of his wand. He couldn't tell what it was, but it was some sort of creature, slithering, but not a snake...

It herded the dementors away, until Draco felt warmth spreading back into his body, even in the coldness of the air. He breathed a sigh of relief, and the patronus faded away in a wisp of smoke. Draco rushed to Hermione.

"Snap out of it," he said urgently, shaking her.

Hermione rolled over, "Am I dead?" she said dully, "Because I doubt I could have gotten out of that alive. I really don't feel very dead. I feel alive and tired."

"You're not dead," snapped Draco, "Honestly, don't you have any faith in me?"

"You told me before that you couldn't make a patronus," replied Hermione defensively.

Draco smiled at her, "That was before I knew you," he said lightly.

Hermione blushed deeply, "Tell me, what would have happened if Harry had come here after all," she said quietly.

Draco gave a small twitch and then said, "He would have been killed."

Hermione shuddered, "But how?"

Draco rolled his eyes, "Why are you asking me this now? Er...I had to get it to him, and then when he fell asleep, if you will...then he'd be here. I might add that he would've been inside the castle, since I might have been prepared," he looked at Hermione with a bit of a grin. "And then, I would have gone on being horrible all my life, Voldemort would have taken over, and Potter would have been dead."

"That's terrible," said Hermione wonderingly.

"And the worst..." continued Draco dramatically, "Would have been that we'd never have become friends."

Hermione smirked, "Right, like that's what made you conjure a patronus. Somehow, I was thinking more along the lines of..."

"Don't even say it, however pleasant it might be to me. And you might as well know that you just ruined the one time in my life that I was all poetic and sensitive," said Draco testily, giving her a wicked smile that made him look just like his father. 

Hermione was tempted to turn away, the resemblance was so strong, but she just cocked an eyebrow at him in response. Draco looked at her, as if trying to tell her something. But she couldn't read his eyes, she couldn't tell what he was saying...

"So what's next?" he said.

"I don't know. Maybe we should just kick in the bucket," said Hermione dejectedly.

"Now that's a good way to solve all problems," said Draco amicably. He lowered his voice and continued, "No, we're just going to keep trying. After all, I'm a Malfoy and we never give up. What's more, we never fail."

Hermione looked at him sourly, "There's always a first time for everything."

  
  


Harry flipped open his text and began to scribble down his essay for Potions. He simply had to do well, Snape would be more then happy to fail him for the least mistake. But his head felt heavy, as if something was missing. 

"Wonder where Ron and Herm are?" he said lightly, blotting his sentence. He vaguely recalled seeing Hermione...but where had it been? She'd been asleep, hadn't she? He felt groggy and unaware again. He had a memory, as if something had happened and then time had reeled backwards leaving it as if a dream. Harry leaned back, again letting his thoughts drift to Ron and Hermione. His head hurt...or was that his scar? He felt like something terrible had just happened...

Sinking back into the pouf, his head cleared suddenly, and all he could recall was the faint image of Hermione...she was yelling...but not moving...was she asleep? 

He dozed off.

  
  


"So we escaped the dementors," said Draco, "But we didn't escape those pixies, really. As soon as we make another break for it, they're going to grab us by the ears again and..." he snapped his fingers, "We'll be no better off then we are now."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully, "I think I have an idea."

"D'you usually have good ideas?" said Draco hopefully.

"I have absolutely brilliant ideas, what else?" Hermione said sarcastically, "I don't know! I suppose most of my ideas are alright."

"Right then, let's hear it," Draco folded his arms expectantly. 

Hermione opened her mouth and then closed it again. "Not here."

"And why not?"

"I just have a sense that we're...we're not alone," said Hermione, her voice scarcely above a whisper. She grabbed Draco by the arm and pulled him over to patch of forest. It was here, that she'd seen the raefors drinking. She looked at the water, expecting her reflection. She must look an awful mess, she realized sullenly, in her dressing robes and nightgown. With a gasp, she pulled back and shrieked.

Draco clamped his hand over her mouth and held a finger urgently to his lips. "What was that for? You just told me to stuff it, and now you're screaming your head off!" He cautiously took his hand away as Hermione sank down, breathing in gasps.

"I looked, and I saw...it was..." she mumbled, nervously licking her lips, "I didn't see my reflection. I saw..."

Draco peered curiously downwards and opened his mouth in surprise. He backed away a bit, resolving not to be scared. "Weasley?" he said, not daring to make a statement out of it.

Hermione nodded, "And don't go on haranguing my about how I see him everywhere. Because I swear his face was there, all colorful and real..." she gave a sigh, her mind drifting into remembrance of bygone days.

"No," said Draco shortly, "I wasn't going to. I saw it to, right there." 

"Oh no," breathed Hermione, "We're both cracking up."

"We are not," snapped Draco, "And so much as I'd enjoy teasing you endlessly about seeing Weasley's face wherever you go, I won't. And that's for two reasons, mind. First, because it's not remotely amusing to me anymore, in light of certain...events, " he cleared his throat as Hermione blushed. "And second, because that would really be like saying that I see his fat head everywhere as well, and then I'd be rather..." Hermione sniggered accordingly. "Which I am not," Draco added with a flourish.

"If you'd said that a week ago I'd have said you were a liar," said Hermione swiftly. Draco glared at her. "Now then," she continued, as if what she'd said was absolutely normal and not in the least insulting, "Why do we see Ron?" She pursed her lips and then said importantly, "I expect I'm going mental. But what about you..."

"Hermione, you're not a nutter any more then I am. This liquid can't be water. Don't you see? You saw Ron in it, when I touched it I felt like Ron to you, and furthermore we can walk on it," he paused and then corrected himself, "You can walk on it. I can walk on sometimes, and rather shakily at that."

"So what is it?" Hermione pressed on.

Draco shrugged, "I dunno. Maybe it changes you into someone else?"

"A load of help that was. Why bring something up if you don't know anything about it?"

"I thought maybe you had an idea of..." he trailed off, "What _was_ your idea before anyway?"

"Oh, that. I only thought we could use that spell where we go through things and go through that invisible wall. But I realized it won't work now," she finished, shaking her head.

Draco looked at her curiously, "That's a brilliant idea. Why won't it work?"

"Didn't you see how it affected the wand? If it can hurt inanimate objects, then no simple spell will put it out."

"How do you know for sure?"

Hermione gave him an aggravated stare, "I don't. But if you really want to go and find out, I suppose trial and error would work," she waved a hand at the thin blue line that was almost invisible against the black sky.

"Point well taken," said Draco. 

"I really wish I'd something other then my nightclothes on," sighed Hermione.

Draco nodded, "Something in the form of a tight, leather skirt and..."

"Quit while your ahead." She suddenly narrowed her eyes and glanced around, "And yet again. Do you feel it?"

"Feel what?" said Draco suspiciously.

"This-this feeling. Like we're being watched. Like there's someone here with us."

"There's no one here, look around you," said Draco bracingly, waving a hand casually about. 

Hermione looked unconvinced, "They might be invisible."

"You really think someone's here?" said Draco, sounding slightly unnerved. "Y'know, you can sense things that I can't now..."

"I sense something is..." Hermione broke off and then steadied herself, "Drawing near. It's not a dementor, but I feel...I feel cold."

Draco looked thoroughly uneasy by now. "Concentrate," he said numbly. 

Hermione shut her eyes and breathed in, holding her breath. Even something a simple as breathing takes space up in your mind, and Hermione had to have nothing clouding her thoughts, nothing but the very essence of what she was doing. With a gasp, she turned to Draco, "I know who'd here..."

She wrenched herself forward, but felt cold hands against her neck.

"What I'd like to know," said Lucius' voice, "Is how a mudblood got out of that deathtrap alive."

"Just let her be," growled Draco. "Why did it take you so long to find us anyway? Losing your touch?" He smirked sardonically.

Lucius did not show the slightest sign of having heard his son, but instead grinned almost mechanically, "We've had this discussion too many times. Let's be done with it right now." He turned to Hermione, "You still won't repent?"

Hermione swallowed, "No," she choked out, feeling his grip tightening on her throat.

"Very well then," Lucius smirked, reaching into his robes. He reached deep into one pocket, then the other, cursing under his breath. She chanced a glance at Draco, who was fumbling with the wand. In a movement so slick and fast that she barely saw it, he bent down and brushed the wand into the silver liquid. There was a tingling all through her, and the sound of rushing water...or air...she couldn't really tell.

Hermione squelched a cry, as Lucius pulled something shimmery from his pocket. Draco, however, was looking suspiciously calm. For some reason, Hermione had a flash of realization, and at just that moment she elbowed Lucius sharply in the stomach and broke away. 

"Good luck," said Draco, breathing fast and handing her the wand.

"You'll need it more," said Hermione softly, staring at him. "Be careful."

"And Hermione," Draco said quickly, "What I said before...about it being a mistake..." He breathed deeply, "It wasn't. That was the one thing in my life that will never be a mistake." Hermione bit her lip, and just as Lucius caught his breath enough to advance on her, she flicked the wand.


	8. Without Rain: (part 08)

A/N: This part wrote itself. It's mostly talking, and sorting some things out. Again, some romance., won't tell with who. I actually like it because it's sort of deep at parts. I'm starting to like Draco more and more, I don't know if I like him or Ron better anymore. Right, and there's about two more parts after this. It will be a while before the next part though, because I have to much homework! Eurgh, biology...*ahem*

I'm getting less and less reviews *pouts* So let me know what you think! What do you want in my next story? I'm already thinking of it as this one dwindles to an end...

  
  


Silver drops sprayed in every direction, filling the air with their shimmer. Feeling lightheaded, Hermione knelt on the ground. The sky darkened past its usual black into a black so piercing and filling that she felt lost in it. Then everything rushed back in a wave of piercing white. Hermione held her head in her hands and caught her breath before willing her eyes to cooperate and look up. She let out a strangled cry.

Ron was sitting up, his eyes wide open, but she could tell he didn't see her. There was still no color about him, save the dead white. Hermione blinked back tears. If she'd ever had to show she was a Gryffindor, strong and courageous, it was now.

"Ron, look at me," she said unsteadily. 

Ron's shell turned to her, and stared right at her. She felt her insides writhing within. Blindly, she looked back, not wanting to see him this way, and yet burning to just get another look at him. She held up the wand, because this wasn't Ron, this wasn't the Ron she once knew, it was only an empty body now.

It wasn't _her_ Ron. 

He reached out for the wand, but Hermione held it back, out of reach. "No, you can't have it yet," she whispered, well aware of the fact that she was trembling from head to toe. The figure stared at her blankly, and again reached out his hand. "No," said Hermione pointedly, "I told you that you can't have it back." She felt her eyes stinging in her restraint to not cry. To see Ron like this was tearing her apart.

Ron looked at her, his face gaunt and empty, but somehow angry. "If you want it, then come over here!" said Hermione desperately, backing up as she spoke.

He nodded slowly and moved towards her. In a flash he was in front of her, holding out his hand expectantly. 

"How did you do that?" Hermione choked out, still holding the wand back. He just stared at her with those vacant eyes, those eyes that usually made her angry, made her laugh, made her cry... "Damn it, Ron!" she cried, "Stop it! You're killing me, you're ripping me apart! Pull yourself together and you can live again!" She didn't care if she was screaming.

Ron just looked confused at this show of emotion. Hermione stomped her foot on the ground in fury and strode right up to Ron. Shocking even herself, she grabbed his arm, pulled him close to her, and gave the wand another flick.

  
  


"Where did she go, boy?" Lucius snapped, getting up and wheezing heavily.

Draco shrugged carelessly, "Away, I expect."

Lucius' eyes narrowed until they were mere slits in his face. "Did you help her?" he said, his voice so soft that Draco barely heard him. Draco turned to him, and gave another light and carefree shrug. Lucius barred his teeth, "Answer me, idiot boy," he said, his voice not a whisper but a hiss this time.

"I already told you," sighed Draco, making an effort to look slightly irritated, "She went away."

"DON'T BE SMART WITH ME!" snarled Lucius. He lowered his voice and said with extreme effort, "You are my son, I don't want to hurt you. And I do have a wand now, so just answer your...father."

"Father?" said Draco simply, tilting his head to the side, his eyes flickering in the dull light of the moon.

Lucius made a low growl in the back of his throat. "I said answer me."

"You don't want to hurt me," said Draco pensively, tapping his foot. "Then why the hell did you use the crutacius curse on me?" He paused, "That's pain beyond all pain."

"I had to. You were being difficult."

"A _real_ father would never do that to his son!" said Draco angrily. "And if you cared at all you'd never have done that to _me_."

"Show some respect to your father," said Lucius swiftly.

"You may be my father," said Draco, well aware of how low his voice had dropped and of the trembling one he now had, "But I am not your son." 

Lucius regarded him coldly, "We can only hope, Draco, and that rarely gets us anywhere in life. Hope is for the scum of the earth."

"No, sorry. Because then _you_ might have some," Draco said coolly. They lapsed into complete silence, each at a loss for words. Draco was feeling sick. He felt fury, hate, spite, scorn, and anger; all the things that he so wanted to wash from his body forever. Feeling them made him feel dirty, and wrong. He didn't know why.

A soft breeze rippled through his silver hair. Draco swiped at his head to get it away. Too refreshing at a time like this, he thought vaguely, barely making sense to himself. Lucius heaved an over exaggerated sigh, and spoke softly.

"I'm doing this for our family, not just for me. We'll have more wealth then ever before if I should ever reach the Potter boy, and that muggle girl is in the way," he said, his words frigid with their icy tone. "If you care about your mother and..."

"DON'T YOU BRING MUM INTO THIS!" Draco shouted, "You don't give a bloody damn about her. You only married her because you thought she was beautiful! You two never even talk! You're doing this because you're a coward and you're selfish, not because of me, and definitely not because of her." He broke off, breathing rapidly, "Say whatever you'd like. Say you hate having me for a son, call me a failure, hit me with another curse if you need to...but don't _lie_ to my face."

Lucius nodded grimly, "You're a Malfoy deep down. And no matter how much you try to squash that out of you, it will rise again. You can't change for a mudblood, boy, no matter how much you want to."

"SHUT UP!" Draco screamed. He could feel the heat coming from his face.

"You have a fiery temper, and you're quick to the punch. That's Malfoy blood. You're a true Slytherin..." 

Draco could feel his hands clenching into fists, "I am not..." He felt his body straining to break free and beat his father with all of his strength. No, he thought solemnly, don't sink to that level. Turning around, he marched in the other direction.

Lucius strode up to him, easily keeping up with his long strides. "Walking away, boy? Scared to be who you are?"

"I'm not like you," Draco growled, still walking.

"Listen to me," snapped Lucius, "The more you deny it the more it grows within you. Have you looked in the mirror lately? The silver-white hair, the cunning good looks, those eyes that reflect nothing..." Draco winced, and his father smirked, "All traits that only a Malfoy can possess. All traits that make up me...and you."

"Sure," said Draco through gritted teeth, "On the outside. But inside, we're nothing alike. And we never will be. We never were."

"Your eyes, boy," said Lucius, "We're the same. Inside and out."

  
  


Glancing around, the first thing Hermione noticed was that Draco and Lucius were no where to be seen. Probably got carried away in their battling, she thought nervously. Still, this was right where she'd been before, and this was right where she wanted to be now. With a start, she shoved Ron away from her, not wanting to touch him a moment more then she had to. Ironic, she added to herself dully.

"Look," she said to him, leaning over the ground and staring into the liquid. "I just figured it out. It's not water, if I were to drink it, I wouldn't be me."

Ron stared blankly at her, as she knew he would. But just to speak to him comforted her, so she continued speaking.

"When Draco touched it, he felt like you. When I looked at it, I saw you...No, not you. I saw Ron, not you, you empty, lifeless shell," Hermione shook her head, "Why? Because Ron was in them. When the raefors sucked out his soul, they had to get rid of it. Stupid of me, really. Of course, souls can't just disappear after a dementor sucks them out. They have to go somewhere, just like everything else." Hermione looked up at Ron expectantly. He blinked once.

"Jerk," she mumbled. "They weren't drinking! They were chucking you into this pool! This pool that collects souls. Every soul ever sucked away is put here, until it slowly fades into it and joins the rest. Yours is still there, wearing away by the second! We must find it!" Hermione knew she was getting hysterical, but for every extra moment spent with Ron's body, she was feeling more and more lost.

Abandoning all of her usual wits and sense, she plunged her hands into the liquid. She saw Ron, grinning up at her from within. "Get out," she whispered, her face hot. She drew out her hands, plaited with silver, and she could feel him throughout her. "Come here," she said nervously, beckoning to Ron.

He looked at her, standing still.

"Fine, be difficult," said Hermione, forgetting that he understood nothing. She walked over to him, and very gently clutched his hand in hers.

Warmth seeped into her body, and she saw his hand flush with color. "Ron..." she gasped, pulling away. He moved his hand numbly, and looked at her, his eyes still empty. Hardly aware of her movements, she roughly shoved him to the ground and crouched beside him. Without even looking, Hermione began to frantically splash him with the silver liquid. "If I get enough on you, you'll be okay..." she mumbled, mainly to assure herself that it was so.

Ron put his hands up to block away the liquid. Hermione stifled a shriek.

"You're reacting!" she squealed. Ron shook his head and then crossed his legs, sitting down mindlessly on the grass. Hermione didn't bother asking why he didn't sink, she knew the answer. Without a soul, he weighed nothing...he was only a fragment of his former self. "Come on, Ron, you're gonna be alright..."

Hermione paused quizzically, then shook her head and continued to splash him. Ron sat very still, color flooding him as parts of his soul were returned. 

"But I couldn't possibly find all of it. There will always be some part missing," Hermione sighed dejectedly.

"HERMIONE!"

Hermione whirled around. "Draco," she whispered, putting a hand to her chest in relief. "You're alright...how are you alright?"

Draco panted heavily, and knelt down next to her, looking like he was strongly resisting the urge to throw his arms around her. He opened his mouth to reply but instead glanced towards Ron and growled, "What's _he_ doing here?"

Hermione looked to Ron as well, "You know that's what you wanted me to do in the first place," she replied softly. "Where's your father?"

Draco twisted a lock of his hair around his finger, "He went to get Voldemort. Said he couldn't bear to kill me himself."

Hermione opened her mouth in a silent cry.

"My point exactly," muttered Draco, "We have to get away from here."

"I can't leave Ron now," said Hermione.

Ron cocked his head to the side and looked at her. Hermione clasped her hands together and began to furiously throw the liquid on him. 

"Hermione, we have to!"

Hermione glared at him, "Help me, you prat." With much muttering and murmuring, Draco began to pool out the water and spill it over Ron.

"The most time we might have is an hour," said Draco sullenly, "And that's only if my father really has trouble finding Him." He grimaced and added, "I reckon we'll be done for if we don't hurry it up."

"I almost lost Ron once, and I won't lose him again."

Draco blinked his eyes once and bit his lip. He fell silent, until only the trickling and splashing of water was heard against the night.

Hermione looked up moments later to see that the usual color had come back to Ron's entire body and face. His hair took on a slightly duller shade of red, but she could recognize him, and he seemed almost real.

"So it's a bit browner," muttered Draco, "That red was gaudy anyway. Let's go." 

Hermione folded her arms defiantly, "NO. He may look like Ron, but he doesn't act like Ron. And despite what you may think, I like his personality, not his looks."

"Of course I don't think that," said Draco sniffily, "If you went after looks you'd be madly in love with me by now."

"Went after?" echoed Hermione suspiciously, "What d'you mean by that?"

Draco rolled his eyes, "God, let's not go through this again. Stop kidding yourself."

"Oh, stuff it, Draco," snapped Hermione, collecting the liquid with more vigor then before.

"We'll never get all of his soul back, y'know" said Draco angrily. "Heck, it's not even reaching his skin."

Hermione nodded and dripped some onto Ron's arm. Very slowly, he uncoiled his fingers. Hermione let out a squeak which made Draco scowl even more. Cautiously, Hermione dappled her fingers in the liquid and traced her finger over Ron's mouth and face. Draco's pale face managed to draw some color.

"Right, we got his face, arms, legs, hair," she grinned at Draco, "That's it, eh?"

"Unless you want to take his clothes off," replied Draco bitterly.

Hermione snapped her fingers, "Of course!"

"WHAT?"

"No, no," giggled Hermione, "I only meant that...well, no wonder he's not speaking or anything. It has to reach his heart, Draco."

"I _prefer_ him this way. He's not such a snipey git," growled Draco.

"Well I don't," whispered Hermione menacingly.

"I am _not_ seeing Weasley without a shirt on!" insisted Draco in an unusually high voice.

"Fine then, I'll do it."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? What's next?" Draco cleared his throat, "Draco, I have to take his pants off now to reach..." he stuck out his tongue and wretched. 

"Stop being so infantile," snapped Hermione, "And stop being so disgusting. We're not stripping him, you dolt. We're saving his life."

"But it's so...so..." Draco stammered.

"I cannot _believe_ we're having this conversation at a time like this," Hermione muttered.

"Me either," said Draco haughtily.

"Right Draco, he'll look _so_ hot at a time like this, half dead and all," said Hermione, looking ready to slap him, but instead placing her hands on his shoulders and turning him around. "And close your eyes as well."

"Hermione..." Draco whined.

Hermione didn't speak. All Draco could hear was the sound of the water, and of Hermione mumbling to herself. "Okay, you can look now. Hope I didn't scar you for life or something," she said after a few moments.

They both stared at Ron, who was looking slightly taken aback, his shirt ruffled ("Only to save his life," said Draco mockingly), and they waited. Hermione tapped her foot, spoke in low tones to herself, turned about on her heels, then on her toes, and bit her lip so hard once that she drew a thin line of blood; but nothing happened. Draco cleared his throat importantly and said, "Give him back his wand."

Hermione bleakly handed Ron his wand. Looking at it, he turned it around and around and then stood up. Cautiously, he turned to Hermione and Draco, and then pointed the wand at his head. Nothing. Hermione stalked up to him superciliously and grabbed the wand. Swiftly, she pointed it right at his chest, and looked him in the eyes. She could see a silver haze drifting from the tip of the wand. It felt cooling and relieving against her hand. Ron looked down at her, and their eyes locked.

"What the bloody hell are you doing, Hermione?" he said, pushing the wand away from his chest, "Been learning from Malfoy?"

Hermione felt the wand slide from her grip as she stumbled backwards. "Thank God," she whispered, feeling tears streaking her face already.

"Are you alright?" said Ron nervously.

"Don't you...you...remember..." sobbed Hermione.

Ron inched closer to her, "Remember what? I remember seeing Malfoy's dad, and then well, I really don't recall much beyond that. And I remember you snogged with Malfoy," he added, scowling.

Hermione gave a depressed giggle, feeling the heaviness in her gut rising and seeping out of her. "Ron, I was so scared..."

"Could you fill me in on why?" said Ron casually, "I feel..." he shifted uncomfortably, "Rather empty."

Hermione breathed heavily, "I can't say now, we have to...to..." she sighed, and turned away. Ron looked at her, his eyes narrowed in question. 

"We'd better get going," Draco cut in sulkily.

Hermione nodded weakly, tucking her hair behind her ears.

"Wait," said Ron. "Malfoy, what's going on?"

Draco rolled his eyes, "Can't talk about it now, Weasley. Let's get going."

"C'mon, Ron, maybe we'll get back in time for classes," said Hermione, smiling tightly.

"Do you think about anything except school?" said Ron lightly.

"Oh..." sighed Hermione, "Sometimes."

Ron inched closer to her. "Like?"

Hermione could feel herself flushing, "Like...stuff," she muttered, staring fixedly on the ground.

"What type of stuff?" Ron moved even closer to her. Hermione breathed quickly, resisting the temptation to back away, though she didn't know why she'd want to do that. 

"Oh..." said Hermione again, "I don't know."

"Come on," said Draco stiffly.

"Hold up a bit," replied Ron.

"Listen, we just saved your life for the hundredth time. The least you could do would be to actually do what we say," snapped Draco.

"Don't act so excellent, Malfoy. I might not all rich like you, but I'm just as good. Because unlike you, I have a heart and a..."

"Don't say it, Ron," Hermione cut in.

Draco sneered, "Give me a single way that you're as good as me, Weasley."

Ron glowered at him, "Like this."

Hermione let out an audible gasp as Ron wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her up to him, and pressed his lips to hers. Her entire body went rigid with shock. Kissing Ron was...was...well, nothing like kissing Draco. Maybe because he was her best friend, maybe because it was in the dark, whimsical feel of the night, but it just felt so...right. Not that kissing Draco felt wrong. Hermione's head spun in all directions and she felt her knees threatening to give way. Ron's grip around her waist tightened, holding her up. She couldn't even tell if she was kissing him back, just that her arms had found their way about his neck and that she never wanted to let go.

Ron's hands gripped her wrists and abruptly, she felt her back slam into a tree. She was dimly aware of the adrenaline rushing through her body as she felt Ron pressing so forcefully into her that she could feel his heart beating against hers. And she wasn't aware of the tree's rough trunk scraping against her back. She wasn't aware of the fact that her lips were parting against Ron's. She wasn't aware of anything, not even that Draco was still standing right behind them.

"If you're finished with this _extreme_ session of snogging, could we _please_ get a move on?" Draco cut in extremely coldly.

Hermione's voice caught in her throat and she broke away from Ron. He grinned at her, then looked at Draco and said flippantly, "Guess I'm better then you in some ways."

Hermione raised her hand to slap him as she usually would have done, but found that her anger with him had faded away. She thrust her hand into a fist and hit it against her other palm. Ron and Draco were looking at each other, eyebrows raised, as if a mere stare could kill...

"Ah, well then, better be going or we're going to be in real trouble," Hermione said, her voice giddy and fake with expression.

"Yeah, let's," said Draco dully.

They all began to walk quickly, none of them speaking at all. The silence went unbroken for quite a while, until Hermione brushed past Ron's ear.

"Was that only to prove yourself?" she whispered, her voice vacant of all expression.

"No, it just fell at the right moment," said Ron, flashing a grin, "If I hadn't said that, I still would have...had to prove myself."

Hermione nodded satisfactorily, and continued to walk.

  
  


Hermione leaned against the base of a tree, panting. She wasn't sure if it was contentment, excitement, or exhaustion. Probably a bit of each...

Ron was acting slightly less violent towards Draco then usual, and he seemed a bit...flat. It would all go away, Hermione told herself, when they woke up. If they woke up...ever...

Draco walked over to Hermione, and stared down at her meaningfully, "I should have known better," he said quietly but stiffly. "Let that be a lesson to you, Granger. Don't get close to anyone. Don't make friends. And never love." He glared at her and then shook his head despairingly, "Then you can't be hurt."

"Draco..." Hermione said, "Don't say that stuff. You know it's not true..."

"It's true. I was wrong to try and change. I'm a Malfoy. Cold, cruel, and collected at all times," said Draco, "I guess I shouldn't have tried in the first place. It was always so..." He clicked his tongue in his mouth, "Obvious."

"What was obvious?"

"Listen, Granger..."

"DON'T YOU START THAT!" shouted Hermione.

Draco shrugged, "Whatever. The point _is_ that you were here because you had the book, I was here because I knew about it, but then; why was Weasley here?"

"I don't know, and I don't care," snapped Hermione.

"I used to think I was flat, Hermione. One sided, nothing but hate inside me. And after knowing you, I felt different," said Draco crisply, "But I guess I was kidding myself. Nothing ever changes for the better."

"You're lying to yourself," said Hermione desperately. 

"I'm not."

"You are! I hated you the way you were! You made my life a living hell! And now...now you've added something to it. And I like it, Draco. I'm just..." she broke off.

"I don't know who I am anymore! I can't be who I was, but I'm not who I am," he shook his head, "Sometimes I just feel so..."

"Lost," they chorused. Hermione blinked a few times, and sighed. She turned around and trudged over to Ron. Draco kicked the ground. He could hear her summarizing what had happened to Ron, he could hear Ron gasping and whispering back. He felt sick.

"So really," Hermione was saying, "the reason Draco and I were so moody was because of that. All of the emotions trapped in this pool were seeping into us and changing the way we acted." She sighed and pulled her robe tighter about her.

"Freaky," said Ron. "And I sort of went and...lost my soul?"

Hermione looked at the ground with a bit of a smile, "For me. You did that for me."

"Did you expect me to just let you go evil on me?" said Ron.

"Well, your life Ron...it was too high a price to pay."

"Life for a life. I dunno about that," Ron replied softly, "Listen, that was nothing so just put it behind you."

"You saved my life. How can I just put that behind me?"

"It's quite simple. Just forget about it," Draco cut in, his voice quiet but sharp.

Hermione rubbed her eyes, "Draco, please."

"You asked a question, I answered," said Draco, his voice taking on its usual drawl. 

"Stop being so damn jealous," Hermione snapped.

"Jealous? Me?" echoed Draco, "I don't give a damn if you make out with Weasley. Really, I could care less. Try me. Go on." He folded his arms expectantly. 

"Draco, quit it," Hermione said, her voice a growl. 

"Yeah Malfoy, stop being such a..." Ron started angrily.

Hermione shot him a glare. Ron pursed his lips. 

Draco threw up his hands and glowered at them both. "Right, that's it! I don't care anymore. You don't have any idea what my life is like. You don't know what it's like to have no friends in the world and to have an arch nemesis who's a famous hero. You don't know what it's like to not have a family!"

"You have a family..." Hermione began.

"I don't," Draco snapped. "I might as well not have one at all. My mum's an ornament to my father, just like some nice jacket, or a new sofa. My father...he hates me. He can't stand who I've become, he couldn't stand who I was. You know why? Because he only wants some carbon copy of himself. Some muggle hating, scornful, hateful bastard who cares for no one and has no one caring in return!" He broke off, his face flushed and his body rigid with emotion. Hermione turned to him.

"I had no idea," she whispered, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Draco flinched and pulled away, as if she'd touched his skin with poison. "No one does." 

"You gave in to it," said Ron quietly. "You let yourself feel all that hate. If you seriously wanted to be yourself, why did you even listen? You could've just said _no."_

"Lovely idea, Weasley. With just one hitch," Draco smiled grimly, "If I'd done that, I would have been beaten senseless. My father might not want to _kill_ me, but he has no problem with punching me around whenever he has a few frustrations." Draco paused and then said quirkily, "We all have secrets. Some will be found, some will be considered, but most will go undiscovered by those that would most like to learn them."

Hermione felt her lips involuntarily parting in a smile. "That's so...true. So real." She put on a sympathetic grin and said lightly, "You should've been born a muggle. I have a feeling you'd be an excellent writer."

Ron grimaced and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Excellent writer..." he mumbled dully.

"Would you stop it?" snapped Hermione dourly, "Really Ron, you're being such a prat lately." 

"I'm tired," said Ron.

"You're not," said Hermione, "You're exhausted. We all are." She turned to Draco and said hopelessly, "I really don't see any way that we might get out of here."

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but when he did it was in a lower, and cooler voice. Hermione choked out a gasp and whirled around.

"I don't think you need to worry about that any longer," came the voice. Draco snapped his mouth shut mid sentence.

"You still won't repent?" said Lucius.

"We just keep crossing paths, don't we?" said Hermione curtly.

"Answer my question, mudblood, then there will be time for other things."

Hermione furiously shook her head, "I'd never! NO!"

"Very well," said Lucius. "I always thought that a mudblood shouldn't be considered a true witch. Don't you agree, Draco?"

He looked at his son who was shaking with fury, "_Expeliarmus," _he added succinctly, pointing his wand at Ron. Ron's wand flew from his grasp. Lucius turned it over once, and then snapped into four even parts. Ron went white.

"Now then, to business," said Lucius momentarily, "Magic. We live in a world where nothing is impossible, do we not? _Everything_ is magic. Sometimes, something happens that disturbs the magic. A mistake," he glared at Hermione who glared right back. Unfazed, he turned back and continued, "And magic is too good for these. Mudbloods. They don't deserve to live by magic. And they don't deserve to die by it." With on swift movement he was behind Hermione, his cold hands resting on her neck and keeping her in place. She swayed on the spot, everything about her blurring.

"I might do this easily. You might die from a simple curse. But no, you're a mudblood, and just to curse you would be dirtying my mouth and hands. So I figure a muggle punishment might be more sufficient," Lucius looked around at Draco and Ron. Neither had budged. Hermione parted her lips very slightly and mouthed, run for it. Ron shook his head openly. Draco just stood still.

Lucius reached into his robes and fumbled about for a moment. Then he drew something out and held it lightly between his fingers. Hermione closed her eyes, trying to block out the way the dagger glinted in the pale halo of the moon. He sharply drew the knife across his palm, drawing a thin, clean line of blood. He didn't flinch, only whispering, "Well then, it seems to be in order."

"Any last words?" said Lucius, holding it to her chest. Her stomach squirmed within her making her totter on her feet.

"Only that I'll wake up," whispered Hermione.


	9. Without Rain: (part 09)

A/N: One more part after this...All I can say about this part is that I'm actually really happy with it because it's so depressing, and yet...in a way, not. As it's supposed to be. I don't expect people will exactly love it, but don't flame me, I beg of you, because flames really upset me, and well...you don't know how it will end. *sigh* It' really sad, and the last part will be sad as well. However, I'm debating between two endings now, one really depressing, one just semi-depressing...I'm just rambling now, aren't I? 

Anyway, there's just one more part after this. I literally have six assignments for Monday, so I'm not sure when the ending will be up. Review, Enjoy, as always!

  
  


"Wake up?" said Lucius disbelievingly, his voice toned with amusement. "When I took care of that book?"

"You just can't _die_ in a dream," said Hermione, her voice strangled.

"Guess again," said Lucius silkily, moving the knife to her back and running it down her in a small line, just breaking the skin. Hermione doubled over in pain.

"Stop it," hissed Draco vehemently, speaking for the first time.

"Why do you care, Draco?" said Lucius suddenly, "Why do you give a damn what I do to this mudblood?"

"Because...because..." Draco stammered, his face white. His hands clenched into fists and he said determinedly, "Because I love her."

Hermione felt Lucius' grip on her tighten possessively. 

"Right, like that's gonna do anything, Malfoy," said Ron, scowling and trembling at the same time. Lucius glared at Ron and viciously slashed the blade against Hermione again, "GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HER!" screamed Ron, stepping forward furiously.

Draco couldn't even find it in himself to tell Ron off. He felt numb as Hermione let out another muffled scream. He could see blood dripping down her back now. 

"Lucius," said a cool voice. 

Lucius whirled around, his arms still locked around Hermione's neck. Voldemort glared maliciously at him.

"Why are you wasting time? Put curses on these two," he gestured to Ron and Draco, "and then kill the mudblood. Quickly."

Lucius spluttered, "Draco?" he said incredulously, "But he was our tool for..."

"And he failed. For that, he must die."

Lucius looked grim. Voldemort gave a smile that did not reach his eyes. "You're not devoted to me..."

"My lord, I am..." started Lucius.

"Not enough. A single doubt makes you not devoted in my eyes," said Voldemort scathingly, "And for that, you awake today. For that, you will pay tomorrow." 

"My Lord, I beg of you. I'm utterly disloyal, and you have my humbled apologies...I'll... I'll be rid of him now..." whimpered Lucius, edgily creeping nearer to Draco. Draco yawned in an obvious and enlarged way, tapping his foot impatiently at the same time.

"A single pause is not _true_ devotion, Lucius." And with that Voldemort drew out a thin wand, so frail that it looked as thought it could snap from a mere touch. Ron gave a visible shudder. Voldemort waved it, and Lucius made a strangled noise, dropping to the ground, his eyes closed. His body flickered in the light, the dagger clattered onto the soft grasses, and then he was gone. Draco looked furious.

"What did you do?" he said softly.

Voldemort pursed his mouth, "I let him wake up. I'll deal with you myself. Three to one though, a bit unfair, don't you think?"

"We don't have wands!" Hermione burst out, flinching from movement. She had rips down the back of her robes and thin cascades of blood running over the cloth in random designs. Draco glanced at her, looking extremely unnerved.

"Really? Then it's much more of a fair fight after all," said Voldemort lightly, "No one will come to my aid...or yours. They're all awake."

"May we bide some time?" said Draco, putting on his character sneer.

"I have all the time in the world," replied Voldemort, "But no running off, mind..."

"Wouldn't _dream_ of it," said Draco. "Now then, this is your new hideout. Is it not?" Hermione gawked at him. Why didn't he say any of this to her...?

"Clever boy," said Voldemort casually. "This was the only way those ministry fools would never find me. Unless someone knows I'm here they'll never think to dream about me. Why, most only conceive me in nightmares."

"Imagine that..." growled Hermione, her eyes flashing dangerously.

Voldemort shifted a bit and then said quietly, "You, mudblood. You're even more clever then him. You figured out what was around this castle here. You found out where the souls all go to."

"If I was more clever I might've gotten us out of here by now," Hermione said dejectedly, anger still tinting her every word. "My turn to ask a question. Why was the liquid red where I stepped?"

"Why, I would have thought that much to be obvious. _Their_ emotions are all gone, yours are thriving and fresh. Both the guilty and the innocent have souls, and now they are all combined and mixed. Those were feelings, floating to the surface in an effort to be sustained. You drew lots of them in your _mourning_, and _suffering_" he said smugly to Hermione, "While you drew barely any with the coldness within your soul," He smirked at Draco. "And of course, you stayed afloat because there was enough happiness, anger, regret, fury and...what have I forgotten? Ah yes..._Fear_. Such strong emotions in such compressed conditions is enough to keep anyone upright."

Hermione looked absolutely umbrageous. "That's HORRIBLE!" she shouted, "I've been walking on people's feelings! Their memories! Their hearts!"

"Don't forget their souls," said Voldemort, in a bored tone.

"You bastard," snarled Draco.

Voldemort idly twirled his wand between his long white fingers. Hermione was reminded of Draco for a split second. It was a horrible feeling, like she'd been plunged into a pool of fire, and then scorched with the coldest water.

"So that must mean," Hermione said thoughtfully, "That...that shadow that pushed me away from the castle...so long ago..." she let out a breath, "Was a soul. A fresh soul trying to save me. How ironic." She brushed wisps of hair from her eyes, trying to keep her voice steady, "I thought it was trying to kill me."

"Ah, yes," agreed Voldemort, "Pity."

"And why was Draco burned when he touched Ron's soul, but later he was not? Why wasn't I ever burned?" said Hermione.

"Simply because of certain emotions. Draco, that boy hated you, and so he burned you. As his feelings ebbed away with the other souls...so did his hatred..." Voldemort's voice sent shivers down Hermione's back.

"W-when those dem-dementors grabbed m-me," stammered Ron suddenly, "They-they thought I was H-Harry, eh?"

Voldemort just nodded, stifling a yawn. "Enough. I don't feel like answering any more of your questions. I've wasted enough time for today, and I must save my strength for the death of a certain Potter boy. This makes it so much easier." He began to pace, his eyes taking on a maddened, dead glint that hadn't been there before. "He's a heroic boy, and with his friends all dead he'll want revenge. He'll come looking for me, stupid child, and then I'll be ready." He looked at the faces around him expectantly. 

Hermione looked resolute, like she had nothing to fear now. Ron was completely white, his red hair standing more pronounced then ever. Draco looked ill but ready, his pointed face set in a thin lipped grimace. He ran a hand through his thick, silver blond hair and stepped forward. "Why?"

Voldemort looked taken aback, "Why?" he asked in tones of annoyance.

Draco nodded, "Why us? Why are you the way you are?"

Voldemort sighed and said simply, "You had such promise to me. To the Dark Side. You could have taken unworthy lives with a snap of your fingers, with a twist of your wrist. No matter, it is not too late. I'll spare you. For a price..."

Draco looked back at him, his sightless eyes shimmering like water.

"After this, I'll erase any memories you have of this nightmare..."

"More of a dream," said Draco, catching Hermione's eye, "I'll do it."

Hermione put her hands over her eyes to hide the tears that were unstoppably falling. After all this, how could he just give himself up to the Dark Side? How could he forget this after all they'd been through? How?

No. He was saving himself. That was what she wanted...wasn't it?

"One of your more brilliant decisions tonight," said Voldemort seamlessly, his red slits of eyes glittering in the pale moon.

"Brilliant," repeated Draco, almost grudgingly. 

Hermione licked her lips. They felt icy and harder then usual. She sighed. "I'm ready," she said morosely. 

Voldemort waved a hand as if to brush away her words, and bent down, his black robes billowing out in a passing wind. He picked up the dagger and examined it just as Lucius did, as if it was foreign and yet familiar. "How well I remember," he murmured, "This. My father used it for...cooking. A duller version, that is. This one's sharper though, it cuts through skin, flesh, and bone...Mother never could stand it, when she could zap up food in moments." He smirked and then said menacingly, "It's only a relief that she stood it long enough for me to be born. I hate muggles. My father hated me, I hated him. I hate _all_ muggles now. I hate you," he nodded to Hermione. She stared anxiously up at the sky.

One star, just let one star shine against that pitched, desolate sky...

"Come here," Voldemort said, his voice not showing anything but its usual frigid breath. Hermione walked over, telling herself over and over to keep her head up. She needed to now. She could not show her fear.

Her eyes strayed to Ron and Draco, and for a split second she could swear they'd been talking. Talking in a _civilized_, almost united way. She blinked and saw they were both still, no movement from their mouths, no sounds in the entire night. Voldemort drew the dagger up so that it caught the star's reflections...

Stars? Where had that come from? Hermione looked back at the sky. Dark. Black. Cold. And still empty.

She turned and faced Voldemort. She could see every line in his dead, white skin. He was inhuman, surreal, just a figment of her over active imagination at that moment. She was asleep, and when she was awake it would all be over, done with, wiped from her memory forever. She was _not_ afraid.

Voldemort rubbed the blade vigorously on his robes, shining it. 

She would not close her eyes. She looked at Draco, _his_ eyes that she could lose herself in forever, however little they could really see. As grey and unseeing as the finest line of mist rolling across a mountaintop. At his hair, silver and blond and soft as crushed velvet under her touch. She turned to Ron. The freckles that dotted his nose and covered his face. His hair that was...was...words failed her. As red as the blood that would soon flow from her body as Voldemort snatched away her life...?

She backed up ever so slightly. Voldemort cracked his spindly fingers and brought his hand forward. Her eyes caught on the dagger, with its twisted, cresson and blae serpent design that intertwined to make the handle, the studded emeralds that were clustered at the base, and the silver blade that cast a fluid, dark light over everything in its path. Voldemort jerked his hand forward....

"NO!" screamed a voice.

A sickening plunge of metal into flesh, the squelching, spreading sound filled her ears. But there was no pain to come with it, no warm blood seeping and spilling over her robes and drenching her through. 

And Hermione fainted, only feeling someone catching her with trembling arms as she fell to the ground below.

  
  


Harry blinked his eyes, rubbing away the dust that had collected in the corners. He'd had a dream when he was asleep, but it was so vague and yet so...what was that word? Real? Rather contradictory.

"There was Voldemort," he mumbled, "And Ron. And Herm as well. What rubbish, _they're_ not with Voldemort." He ripped a corner from his scroll of parchment for History of Magic (Witchery in the middle ages), and scribbled on it.

_Voldemort with Ron and Hermione. Dark out. Castle._

His quill paused and he sucked on the end, wishing that it was made of spun sugar rather then of a feather (which tasted quite bad). There was something else that he couldn't forget, somehow he knew the dream was important and that he couldn't just lay back and recall it like all others. His head didn't hurt. His scar wasn't burning. Maybe it was just a dream, a silly fragment of fear, a nightmare...Tsk, said a voice in his head, really shouldn't lie. It's quite naughty to lie. Now go on and think, think back to what you saw when you were asleep. Only when we're asleep do we find reality.

Something in Harry's mind clicked. He furiously scribbled on the parchment, wondering if it was wishful thinking on his behalf.

_Malfoy. Dead._

Voldemort glared fiercely. With her eyes closed and her heart pounding, Hermione could still feel his eyes boring into her like drills. And still, it didn't hurt. She blinked her eyes open to see Voldemort savagely backing up like a wild animal, cornered by a hunter.

"I can feel it," he hissed, flicking out his tongue, "You will soon wake up. But you will pay. All of you will pay with your own grief." He waved his wand against the air, creating a dazzling array of flashing lights and colors. And they were left staring at the black sky, with no more then air to be afraid of. Hermione wavered, holding a hand to her chest and feeling her heart pounding madly within her, she let out a low sob and collapsed on the cool grass.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice dry and cracking.

Ron shook his head disbelievingly. "I....I don't rightly know."

Hermione looked up at him and then glanced in all directions. Suddenly, she felt as if someone had ripped her open and exposed her, letting her see revulsion, fear, pain, agony, sadness, and most of all, the truth.

"Draco..." she murmured, goading herself onto her knees.

"Right here," said Draco. "Really, what _are_ you so...upset about?" Hermione winced. His voice was thick and yet quiet, and she could hear the effort that every word was costing him. She looked over to see him lying on his back, looking blankly at the sky. 

"Oh God..." she whispered, crawling over on her hands and knees. "Draco...why?"

Draco turned to her, his face drained of more color then usual. His robes were covered in a spreading patch of blood, so dark it looked black. He grinned at her, wincing at the same time and then clutching a hand to his chest. "Why?" he said weakly. "Because...you..." he took a deep breath, gasping for more words, "Have so much to live for."

Hermione's breath quickened, "Nothing. No, Draco...God...don't say that..." she carefully undid his robes and ripped off a corner to her robe. She let out a gasp, seeing the deep slash that reached all throughout his chest. Urgently, she pressed the cloth to his wound and gently rubbed it to absorb the blood. He groaned.

Hermione looked apologetically at him.

"Hermione..." he whispered, taking his hand and caressing her cheek, "That wasn't pain it was pleasure." He vainly tried to draw a smirk but just flinched. 

"Don't leave me," Hermione said lightly, putting her hand atop his.

"I'd never do that," said Draco, "Don't be so stupid"

Hermione dug her fingers into his skin, "Draco..."

"You made my life worth living again. And you made me know," he coughed, blood spurting from his lips, "That I was never alone. I'll never be alone again."

"How could you do this to me?" Hermione said again, leaning down towards him. She pulled back, her eyes flashing. "God...Draco, I can...I can..."

Draco blinked at her.

"I can see my reflection in your eyes," she whispered, staring transfixed at herself. Draco's eyes were the same steely grey as always, but now...they weren't....empty.

"I bet..." Draco began. Hermione could see that each word was getting more difficult to say, that each breath was getting harder to catch. "I bet...I know why." He smiled again, "Haven't you heard that your eyes are the mirror to your soul? Hermione, you're..."

Hermione couldn't take it, she felt tears pouring down her face and she curled down, pressing her lips against his with all her force. It was so different, this time she could barely feel him responding. She leaned down to him, her hands grasping his arms with so much strength that she knew she was hurting him, she knew he'd have bruises, but really...did it matter now? She kissed him, leaning into every kiss so much that she could feel his blood in her mouth. Draco curled his arm around her back and then pushed her away.

"Turn over and...look at the...stars with me," gasped Draco. Hermione weakly obeyed, feeling his warm blood covering her robes and skin. She didn't care.

"Draco, I do see stars," she whispered fervently, beginning to tremble.

"That's because I have a wish now," said Draco.

"I do too..." sniffed Hermione, turning over on her stomach and running her fingers through Draco's hair. It was like silk. "I want you to live."

Draco chuckled weakly, "It doesn't matter any more. Hermione..." he gasped, "Don't remember me...as I...was. Remember...as I am...Always remember, I'll always be with you." He choked down more blood.

"I guess this is it," she whispered.

"I just wish I could be there to see you wake up, Granger" said Draco, his voice so breathy and slurred now that she could barely understand him. "And I also wish that I had some really tart comment to make now so that you'd really remember me," Draco coughed, "Don't worry, I don't feel any pain. I'll finally be able to rest, and....I can stop...pretending." Draco coughed, his words fading away and lingering in the air. Hermione felt his hand go clammy and cold underneath hers. She lay her head down, letting her tears mix with his blood. His body went limp and he stopped gasping for air.

How she hated reality. Something light and soft fell onto her lap. 

The book was opened to a fresh page. She could see someone running towards her... 

  
  


And with a start, Hermione woke up.


	10. Without Rain: (part 10)

A/N: It's the end! Finally! I'm already working on another story, that is, I'll do it if you want me to, so let me know. It will be a while, but stay posted! And for those who read this one, be sure to read the next one as well. Anyway, what do I have to say? Well...I have never written such an angst laden, poetic ending to a story. I actually rather like it, more then most of the stuff I write. It's short, but it's fitting. 

Read the Author's note at the end, please!

  
  
  
  


She bolted upright in bed, her hands clenching the quilt and sheets. Hermione let out a low gasp and thrust the covers to the floor, her hands running over her face. She was covered in sweat, dirt and her nightgown was splattered with blood. She retched, leaping up. Something fell from her lap. The book. Closed for once.

She let out a groan of disgust and kicked it across the room.

"Hermione? Is that you?" said a soft voice from across the room, "What are you doing up at this hour?"

"You noticed I was missing?" said Hermione hoarsely. 

"Missing? You were here but a minute ago..." came Lavender's voice.

Hermione shook her head, hurrying from her dorm into the boys' room. 

"Harry?" Hermione gasped out, screeching to halt.

"What the hell just happened?" said Harry numbly, his breath rapid as well.

Hermione clenched her hands, "I can't talk to you now!" she muttered, sprinting away and flinging open the door. She glanced about to see Ron sitting up in bed staring blankly at the wall. He turned and looked at her. Steadily, Hermione walked over. She perched at the side of his bed. 

"What have you dreamed about tonight?"

"I had a nightmare," Ron said tiredly. "Tell me you had one also."

Hermione didn't say anything, her mouth set in a solemn grimace.

"Damn it, Hermione, tell me!" Ron burst out savagely, "Or I'll reckon I've just gone mad!"

"I don't think I had any dream..." Hermione whispered tearfully, "Or nightmare. Everything was real, Ron. As real as it is now. Only I was asleep."

Ron lowered his head and awkwardly wrapped an arm around Hermione's waist. "Is Malfoy really...?" he said gently.

"Yes," whispered Hermione hoarsely, "He's gone."

"God..." murmured Ron, squeezing her tightly, "I'm so sorry, Herm." 

Hermione pulled away, "So am I. C'mon."

Ron got up, absently brushing a hand through his hair. "I must look as bad as you do," he groaned, "All bloody."

Hermione nodded, pulling herself to her feet. She scarcely noticed that Harry was leaning against the wall listening to them. He shook his head and crept back into bed. Where was it he'd been? That silvery field with a black sky? 

Even years later, he'd remember it as if it was only yesterday. Sometimes, he'd remember it so strongly that his scar would sear with pain and remembrance. But he'd never know where he'd been. And he'd never know it was just a dream in the night.

  
  
  
  


Hermione kicked the door. "I DON'T KNOW THE DAMN PASSWORD!" she screamed recklessly. "Let me inside, you filthy..."

There was cold laughter from within. She hated Slytherins. Hated them with every bit of hate she could feel. "Don't you understand? This isn't about our rivalry! I'm not playing some great trick on you and I need to get inside now!"

"Why don't you tell them about Malfoy?" said Ron under his breath.

"Because I want to be there first," said Hermione flatly. She drew a sharp breath, "I need to talk to Draco."

Silence behind the door. Finally, Pansy Parkinson peered out and murmured, "What for?" Doing a double take at Hermione she smirked, "What the hell happened to you, Granger?"

"I can't say," growled Hermione irritably.

"Then you can't come in," snapped Pansy.

Hermione set her face into a slight scowl, and then shoved past Pansy. The Slytherins clustered about her, blocking her path.

Hermione began determinedly, "I need to see him. If I don't, then I know you will. And if you insist on that..." Hermione drew a steadying breath, "You'll regret it forever. You'll be scarred as I have. Some scars don't heal. Now let me through."

"You don't need to make a big deal out of anything, Granger. What'd you want with me?"

Hermione looked up, her eyes wide. "Draco..." she whispered throatily.

He glared at her, wearing the same clothes she'd last seen him in, but no blood, no dirt... "Where do you get the clout to call me that?"

"You don't...remember...forget..." Hermione gasped out.

"What the hell are you talking about, mudblood?"

"Damn it, Draco! It's Voldemort, he made you forget! Look at me and tell me you don't remember! This is worse then death, this isn't you! Look at me and tell me you don't remember _me..._tell me you can still dream, Draco..."

Draco regarded her coolly and then sneered, "I don't remember anything. Now will you and Weasley get the fuck out of here, _please_?"

Hermione locked eyes with him as she walked out, Ron pushing her along. She blinked, not sure if she saw herself or not. They looked clouded and damp. Like he'd been crying.

"Come on, Hermione. I have a strange feeling we both won't be getting any sleep for a while," said Ron, ushering her back inside and muttering the password. They sat down in front of the hearth, listening in complete silence to the crackling of the flames. Hermione felt the heat wash over her like water, making her shiver. She wondered if anyone would see their reflection in her eyes should they look now...And she doubted it. 

Ron looked just as blank as she felt. But he just couldn't feel that bad, Hermione thought furiously, because he hadn't ever gotten to know Draco. Not the way she had in those last hours. Remember, she thought to herself, remember next to time you feel hatred or spite. Remember that even those who seem to have nothing but evil inside of them have some good. It just takes time to bring it out. And don't ever again let yourself feel hate. Hermione shook her head, vowing silently never to forget that. 

"Ron," she said hoarsely.

Ron looked up at her, his eyes shimmery.

"D'you think I'll ever be able to forget this?"

"No. And even if you could, deep down I know you wouldn't want to. You'd remember Malfoy as I've always known him, and you wouldn't want that, would you?"

Hermione shook her head defiantly, "Never." She suddenly walked from the room. Moments later, she returned, the book clutched in her hand. Shakily, she tore off the cover and thrust it into the fire. The flames consumed it into a blackened ash. Hermione paused, "Ever feel like some nice reading at night?" she said acidly, before thrusting the rest of into the fire. She let out a gasp.

The room went cool and quiet. Flashes of silver danced across her eyelids, and she felt a calm wind whistle past her ears. She shook her head and again felt the soothing crackle of flames beside her.

"Hermione..." said Ron unsteadily, "Do you...did you...love him?"

"_Did_ I?" she said aloud. Her mind twirled in circles. One part of her said yes, the other said no. "Yes. I still do," she said stiffly, "And I know that's not what you want to hear. I love Draco, because I'll never again see the true him. But when I glanced it, I saw something that I _did_ love..."

Ron grabbed her arm sharply, his cold touch sending shivers down her back.

"Do you love me?"

Hermione regarded him coolly, "I think I do. Why else would you have been in my dream?" she murmured, "I'm really not in the mood to discuss this now either."

Ron tugged her closer to him, "Hermione..." he said pleadingly.

"I have to get out of here," Hermione said, trying to pull away.

Ron looked up at her, "Hermione," he said again, his voice short and yet...Hermione narrowed her eyes...he sounded almost...seductive...She felt intense heat building in her chest and stomach.

"No, Ron. Not now," she said sharply, pulling out of his grip. She stormed out the portrait hole and down the corridor, not turning back once. She felt fatigue and the biting pains in her back slowly setting in. And then she heard a soft tapping and glanced out the window.

The panes were speckled with drops of rain, running down in rivulets and pooling on the wooden sills. Outside, she could see stars stretching over the sky, looking misty and blurred because of the rain that poured over them and fogged her vision. Hermione blinked a bit, suddenly feeling how very cold the floor was, and how very light her nightgown was. She shivered and then opened the window, letting the cool, fierce wind ruffle her hair and dry her skin of blood.

Hermione took a deep breath, taking in the cold night air and the scent of water and grass. She bounded down the steps, taking them two at a time, and flung open the door. 

Rain pounded down, making a curtain of water before her. Timidly, she stepped outside, feeling it washing over her body and matting her clothes to her skin. Her feet sank into the damp earth, creating prints in the wet dirt. She twirled around and around, getting more and more soaked through, more and more dizzy, until all she could feel was the clinging sensation of water and cloth. As if she could drown in the rain. 

She felt herself breathing steadily and she felt tears streaming down her face. And as the rain poured from the sky, carpeting the ground and dripping from the tip of her nose, Hermione smiled softly.

In time, everything melts away. Nothing could ever be as it was, but the imprints would soften and fade. Opening her mouth, she squinted back the rain in her eyes, tasting the icy, bitter sweet flavor of the water on her tongue. And she realized something.

She could grow without rain.

  
  
  
  


It's over *blinks* I can't believe it. Now I have to do thanks. I would respond to everyone personally, but that would take a long time.... Sanna, and magical*little*me, I was originally going to do complete R/H when I started this, but you guys convinced me about how cool Draco really is. Thanks for all your feedback! Alright, thanks to my email buddies, Hannah, Leah (Cassidy...heh...erm...), Ron Weasley's Girlfriend, Manu, and Marin (who's reviewed every story I've written I think!) You guys rock! Snitch, Haruka Mouse and Galadriel Antoinette, and Aurelia Darcy, R/H peeps, thanks! Isolemnlysweariamup2nogood, wow, thanks so much, your reviews were just lovely! Also thanks to Portia, me, Weasley Twins fan, Franimal, *Jo O*Meara* (are the stars right?), Hermione L. Granger, Hedwig, dragon tamer, Bandit and Emma, and if I forgot anyone I really apologize. Tell me and I'll add a note in my next story. 

I hope you enjoyed reading this, tell me if you want another fic soon and please review it, it'll totally make my day! I've done a bit of my next story, but it doesn't connect to this one at all. It should be posted in a few weeks time, so be sure to keep an eye out! And let me know what type of story you want, because I want to write stuff everyone will like! Oh, and could someone _please_ put me on their fav authors if you like my stuff. *sigh* Please? I'm getting low self esteem here and I feel quite sad... 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
